My Courageous Shinobi
by x0SilverFeathersx0
Summary: An assemblage of chapters revolving around our heartwarming Kagome being paired off with various males from Naruto, and differentiating scenarios. ஐ Chapter 11: "So Hide Your Eyes" PT 2 of 2 — ft. Uchiha Madara and Uchiha Izuna ஐ
1. My Precious Person: Haku

_**Story: My Courageous Shinobi **_

_**Kagome x Haku**_

_**Disclaimer: No own.**_

_**My Precious Person**_

A stranger dressed in a woman's kimono stepped into a forest's clearing, a wicker basket for collecting herbs at hand. This person was beautiful and most would've suspected that the lovely being was female, but alas, the 'she' was actually a 'he'. And his name was Haku. Companion, or the faithful tool as he liked to say, to his Zabuza-san.

With both hands clutching the wooden container in front of him, he cocked his head to the side and soft wisps of dark hair fell to the side. In front of him was an injured girl dressed in what seemed to be a white haori and a red hakama. Being the usual kind one at heart, he walked over to the girl's side. In her hands she held a bow and arrows. And at the side of her torso was a bloody gash, slowly tainting the white clothing.

Haku leaned down and examined the injury. He smiled cheerfully. "Well, I suppose I can't just leave you here to die." his soft and feminine voice spoke. From his basket he grabbed a few selective herbs and grinded them with rocks. When it was ready he gingerly parted the girl's haori, but kept the top part together so if she suddenly awoke he could spare her some shame should she feel any.

Then he went straight to work with the smashed herbs. For any man it probably would've felt quite disturbing to be tending to an unconscious female with touching her – but for Haku it was just an act of kindness. That was probably the reason most healers were usually women since they had better control then their male counterparts.

From inside his kimono, Haku flashed white bandages. With careful precision not to stress the wound, he wrapped the material around her stomach area. After the finishing touch, he pulled her haori together. "Now, I should get going to Zabuza-san with these herbs," he said with a generous grin. Haku stood up and as if on cue, the girl's expression started to change.

One eye similar to Haku's own opened, and the other followed after. The female first seemed to be confused and scrunched up her nose. She then got up to a sitting position, squinting her eyes due to the pain at her side. Haku's lips turned to a generous curve. "You shouldn't move too much, or you'll irritate the gash."

The girl sprawled on the floor's eyes widened in surprise, then she beamed at the 'woman' in front of her. "My name is Higurashi Kagome. Arigatou gozaimasu!" The miko's hand moved over to the wound, and with a nervous face she looked up again to the person in front of her. "I'll try to repay you somehow!" Haku's hands moved in front of him as if to stop her.

"No, it's fine. I couldn't leave an injured stranger on the forest floor. Your wound is bandaged now. And my name, is Haku." He brought his hand to his lips, creating a thoughtful image. "You won't be able to move for a few hours. So I suppose I should stay and help you survive until that time." And with that another gleaming smile was shone.

_She's so beautiful, and kind! _Kagome thought with awe. A small look of pain revealed itself on Kagome's face. Another stab of pain ran up from her injury. The group had been in a battle against a pack of bloodthirsty ookami youkai. The result was that they had all been seperated when the masses of youkai chased each of them, intending to split the group apart.

"Itai." the miko softly murmured.

"I'm not sure if this is enough," Haku sat next to her and reached inside his kimono's pocket. When he pulled his hand out he held an apple and a pear. "But perhaps it'll be better than nothing?" Kagome brightened up, but also with shame that she'd have to take a stranger's food when they had already taken care of her. She was very hungry, but it didn't mean that she could just steal food like that.

"Iie, I wouldn't want to take food from you, Haku-san. I'm not hungry." she smiled. With strange bad luck, the noise of a growling stomach radiated from her. She blushed with embarrassment. With no hesitation, Haku placed the fruits in her hands.

"I have an available source. Don't worry, no one will starve."

"Arigatou." Kagome sighed. She bit into the apple with relief. How lucky had she been to have come across this helpful stranger. Haku raised an eyebrow at the setting sun, a delicate frown on his face.

_Zabuza-san is hurt and I need to get to him also. _Kagome noticed his troubled look.

"Haku-san, if you need to go you should." she grinned. "You helped me more than enough." Haku nodded and stood up.

"I'm sorry that I can't accompany you. However, the injury should be healed in a matter of time." his gentle voice rang. At the tone of Haku's voice and the faraway look that her savior had held, Kagome concluded that there was another person who needed help. At this, she smiled with appreciation.

"You must have someone very precious to you. Right, Haku-san?" He looked taken back as to why she would've said that. "And you're anxious to get to them quickly. Because they're hurt and you want to heal them as fast as you can." He didn't know what to say in reply to her words.

Ever since Zabuza had taken him in as a child, Haku had felt a string of deep connection between them. Whenever he had gotten hurt, Haku was there to eagerly mend his wounds and battle by his side in fights. And no one was more important to him but his Zabuza-san who had always been there for him.

And in return for being there, Haku repaid him by being a weapon for him. "I am...but a tool for him. But I love to stand by his side and fight the enemy. I would risk my life for him."

_They must be in love. _The miko pondered. But she nodded and smiled at the words from the other 'woman'. "You must care for you a lot too."

Haku looked at Kagome straight in the eye with another curve of the lips. "I'd like to think so. But after all, I'm nothing but a tool for him. However I'm happy. Just as long as I can be useful." It seemed as if stars shined in Haku's eyes. Happiness.

_A tool? _Kagome wondered. _She's happy, just to be able to serve him? _Those words reminded her of InuYasha. Should she have been more like Haku and be grateful just to travel with the silver-haired hanyou? Be jubilant just because she could be his jewel detector?

"_Oi, wench, let's get going." InuYasha ordered as he stood up. A tired Kagome exhaled from her seat on the dirt. "Isogu, we have lots of other shards to detect! And that's your job, **isn't **it?"_

_Kagome fumed at his words. "My...**job**?" InuYasha defiantly crossed his arms and stuck his nose in the air, creating the look of a spoiled canine. _

"_That's right, you're invaluable, because you're a shard detector!" he seemed quite actually proud to bellow it clearly in the air. Kagome gritted her teeth. _

"_You jerk! Osuwari!" InuYasha fell head first into the dirt. "Osuwari!" And again, "**O-su-wa-ri**!" This punishment had continued for about an hour. It had been a painful hour, for the inu hanyou InuYasha. _

But even though InuYasha had his own _way_ with words, he had also been a good friend at times.

"_Baka! Why'd you rush into that thing!" Kagome sighed as she stayed in her position on the futon. She had been severely hurt from a fight. With one arrow she had believed she could finish the youkai they had been fighting. But things just hadn't gone the right way. She closed her eyes, tears brimming due to her companion's words. _

_InuYasha's nose twitched at the scent of tears. "Feh," he sat down next to her futon, arms crossed. Kagome opened her eyes to see only the back of his silver hair. "Baka. I was worried." it was only a whisper, probably not meant for her to have heard. Kagome's eyes widened and more tears began to fall. InuYasha quickly turned around with a nervous expression._

"_Hey, hey, stop crying! I was kidding about the baka thing, okay!" Through blurry eyes, Kagome smiled at him thankfully _

"_You actually care about me, InuYasha. Even while you yell, you were concerned." Kagome didn't know why but she felt like another piece had been added to her very soul. For two years she had yearned for InuYasha's acceptance of her, and she had it. Again, InuYasha stuck his nose high in the air. _

"_Feh. Well, isn't that what friends are for?" If it was even possible, Kagome's eyes widened more. With a sudden rush of strength and energy she rushed forth to embrace her friend. InuYasha scratched his head with his index finger. "Eh? Are you sick or something?"_

The miko smiled at the pleasant memory. "Your precious person. I bet anything, that he also cares for you. Sometimes there are guys who just won't admit their true feelings. Just don't lose him no matter what, you should protect the one you treasure with all you have." The mist-nin nodded while he took all of this in. Kagome couldn't comprehend how all of this was coming out of her mouth. It seemed like something a wise adult would say. Or better yet, her mother.

"I will always remember your words, Kagome-san." he turned towards the setting sun with a smile. "I think I know now. Arigatou." Some time had passed while they had been talking, and it was close to night. He stood up and extended his hand to the black haired miko. "You should be able to move now. The herbs I used were quite effective." In her mind, Kagome silently prayed that Haku's words were true. To try and boost her luck, Kagome lunged from the ground with the help of Haku's hand.

She blushed. Kagome had jumped right into Haku's body. "Eh?" then with realization she jumped back, resulting with a tree's bark to her back. "Gomen, Haku-san." Haku waved it off with another kind smile.

_Haku-san. Why did I feel so embarrassed when I accidentally fell into her arms? _A shock came to Kagome. _I do __**not **like girls! I do **not **like girls! No, no, no! _Haku noticed a troubled look on the girl's face and tilted his head to the right.

"Is, something wrong Kagome-san?" The miko attempted to cover her blushing face with her hands. Though it just did not do.

"Iie, Haku-san. Gomen." Haku laughed lightly.

"You've already said that. It's alright." he then turned around from her, stepping towards the direction opposite to wear Kagome was supposed to go. "I owe you, Kagome-san. I hope we get to meet again."

The red stain was still not completely off of the miko's face, but she nodded. "Hai." Haku then suddenly stopped and Kagome raised an eyebrow to his sudden halt.

"Oh, by the way, I'm a guy." Kagome's mouth dropped. In her mind things were going crazy until she calmed down. When she regained attention, Haku was already gone. She coughed once to clear her throat, and slumped against the tree.

Kagome sighed, and then smiled. _Well that explains why I was blushing. I knew there was something about Haku-san. _Kagome rested her chin on a palm. _I wonder...who his valuable person is. _His words echoed within her mind.

"_I owe you, Kagome-san. I hope we get to meet again."_

**One Year Later**

Haku's breath grew even shallower with each passing moment. But he had to get there; he had to protect his precious person. Naruto had decided against killing him when he had had the chance. _Arigatou, Naruto-kun. I'll be able to make it in time. _With the last of his strength, Haku lunged forward to the immobile Zabuza, Hatake Kakashi's attack going through him instead.

Blood gushed from Haku's lips. "Kagome-san, your words helped me. To protect. My precious person." his words were merely a whisper, unable to be heard. But that was all he needed. He had done his job. He had protected his treasure. The only thing he heard was Zabuza's chuckling.

"Good job, Haku." the strong and vicious voice complimented.

_I'm glad. You're happy, Zabuza-san._

Kagome stopped walking, whirling around on the road to face the opposite side. It was as if she had heard someone speaking to her. A voice she had remembered clearly.

She raised a firm eyebrow. "Haku-san...?" Sango stopped along with her.

"Is something the matter, Kagome-chan?" the tajiya asked her sister-like figure who shook her head as a negative in reply.

"Iie, Sango-chan. Just enjoying the wind." The other woman took the answer and hurried up to the group.

"Well take a few minutes, Kagome-chan, just catch up after your done!" and with a smile, the kimono-wearing woman jumped ahead. The girl from the future smiled into the wind.

_Protect your precious person._

**Well guys this is the end of the first chapter! Please review for more updates, and remember I take suggestions to the other chapter pairings! What should the second chapter's pairing be? Kagome x ? Suggest in review!**

**Arigatou Gozaimasu: Thank you very much**

**Isogu: Hurry up!**


	2. Dance Dance Koishii: Sabaku no Gaara

This chapter had been re-touched and edited on the date February 23, 2007.

**Disclaimer:** I suppose since these are required, I must say, "I do not own anything of this fic but the idea!"

Chapter Two:

"Dance Dance Koishii"

A young child with ruffled red hair and rimmed green eyes sat alone on the ground, a solemn frown on his face. This boy could be classified as out of the ordinary almost instantly, for he was blessed – or cursed, with a peculiar ability to control the sand around him. Not to mention it was also strange, for he was without a companion and seemed accustomed to the silent loneliness.

Then came the patter of soft, quick feet and an unexpected voice asking, "What are you doing by yourself?" People never approached him, and it was nearly shocking for the boy whose concentration in manipulating the sand shattered. He cautiously turned his head to face a girl around the same age. The boy first blushed and averted his emerald orbs back to the golden grains, for he really wasn't the type to associate with a female.

"...I'm building a sand castle," he started shyly. "Do you want to help?" Cocking her head to the right, the bold girl blinked a few times at him, and he hoped rejection wasn't what was coming.

She then clasped her small hands together and piped, "Thanks for the invite, I'd love to!" By the end of her sentence the girl had already ploppe down next to him and reached for the yellow substance. However before her dainty fingers could make contact she warned in a small tone, "But please don't get angry with me if I mess up."

The boy raised a puzzled eyebrow and then nodded with an appreciative smile. Building with sand had not been too difficult due to the boy's amazing ability and with the girl patting here and there to maintain the right shape.

During their working process the girl stopped and turned to her new playmate. "I'm Kagome, what about you?" she asked curiously. The dark-haired boy froze on the spot, contemplating whether or not to tell her his true identity. Would she cower in fear and abandon him like the others or accept him as a person and not a monster?

"_Did I ever have a friend in the first place?_" the child asked himself sadly.

"My name is Gaara." he answered bravely with a set mind that the girl should either be true to him, or flee like a coward. Kagome's eyes widened and he mutely prayed it wasn't out of negative reactions.

"Sabaku no Gaara?" she whispered dramatically. After giving her a curt nod he expected her to scream and sprint away for her life, but not what happened next.

Kagome clasped her hands together and replied excitedly. "You really are amazing and full of surprises, Gaara-kun!" Blinking twice as if the flying sand had blinded his eyes, the boy finally smiled when it was proven that Kagome really was there – and fawning over him. A warm emotion blanketed his stomach, and he wondered if this was what his uncle had spoken of the other night.

_Yashamaru nodded with a faint curve of his lips. "Your heart may feel as though it's bleeding – but it's because you desire love."_ _the blonde man spoke, placing his own larger hand on top of Gaara's. "It is when you have someone care for you. And I care for you, Gaara-sama." _

"Arigatou, Kagome."

His friendly chatterbox inclined her head towards the right and asked, "What do you mean?"

A barely visible blush stretched across Gaara's pale features while he tried to word out something he wasn't so sure how to explain. "For approaching and playing with me."

The raven-haired girl's eyes widened ever so slightly in understanding, and then a kind smile graced her parted lips. "I'd be more than happy to play with you anytime!" From that day on the beauty of a flower bloomed – of one called friendship, promising to last an entire lifetime.

Eight Years Later

"The performance begins!" a man announced to the entire room. Gaara who had succeeded and held the title of Kazekage for some time now, sat in one of the front seats arms crossed and expression unreadable like always. To the right sat his Jounin siblings Temari and Kankurou, patiently waiting for the show.

Temari turned to her youngest brother and questioned airily, "Oi, Gaara, isn't Kagome supposed to be the main star of this one?" Kankurou raised an eyebrow, having had remembered Kagome to be the girl he'd seen his brother with a couple of times before. He'd guessed that they were friends, though it was surprising to see Gaara speaking even a few words to a young woman other than Temari.

Gaara nodded and the lights started to dim; females wearing symbolized masks coming out onto the stage one by one. Harps and violins accommodated the rhythmic moves of the dancers putting on a show seeming effortless for them. Kankurou watched Gaara from the corners of his eyes and concluded that if he was looking for a particular someone, it wasn't one of these women. All of them either had brown or blonde colored hair, some even purple, but no ebony locks flew gracefully along.

Freshly picked sakura petals began to fall on the stage, and from the shadows rose a new character wearing the mask of kitsune. She was dressed in the richest of kimono, the top having a whitish tint so that it accentuated her lovely black hair wonderfully. While other women carried intricate Japanese umbrellas she held in her hand a beautifully decorated fan.

The Kazekage's eyes were glued onto her like bees to honey, and Kankurou smirked with the satisfaction that he'd found the right one. The girl in the middle moved fascinatingly like liquid and seemed to be holding everything together. Time flew by with the exotic acts and performances, before the completion had come, and the women bowed to their audience. When they raised themselves back up the girl wearing the kitsune mask looked as though she were facing Gaara – who in turn complied with a nearly unnoticeable smile.

After the Performance

"Gaara-kun!" Kagome waved while she ran towards him. It wasn't exactly easy running with layers of kimono on and when she stopped about a foot away from him she bent down to catch her breath. Grinning sheepishly at him the young woman winked playfully and asked, "So? Was it good, acceptable, bad?"

Nodding to show that he acknowledged her the male replied, "It was well-played." Kagome stuck her tongue out at the short reply before walking ahead. They stood in front of a clear blue lake, its water the color of an untainted crystal. It had been a secret place they'd discovered within Suna while young. The once graceful girl plopped down on the luscious grass without a care in the world and her feminine fingers lurked around the greenery.

She then patted the open spot next to her, offering a grin at the same time to the dark-haired young man. "Shall we relax and take in good old mother nature together?" Gaara accepted in mute terms and sat left leg propped up, his arms resting upon it. His best friend since childhood unconsciously leaned in to shoulder.

Kagome sighed heavenly, "This is just like when we were young." The two started reminiscing and the Kazekaga brought forth in his mind a cherished memory of the special person beside him. Whenever they had arrived at this place, Kagome would always request of him a continuous favor. She would ask for him to control his sand in a manner so she could float above the water – and then dance.

As the years went by, hard-working Kagome developed greatly in her artistic career, eventually rising to the top. She had even given up living life as a successful sand-nin just for her dream and if you could somehow force him to, Gaara would admit he was proud of her. Never had he seen any other woman like her, striving to mold every aspect into perfection. But of course she would always bother repeating, "_Always room for improvement,_" thus, the cycle repeated itself.

"Say," the dancer started while raising her head, a thoughtful finger on her lips. She turned to gaze hopefully at her best friend. "Gaara-kun, how about a replay of our childhood?"

"That, I would not mind." he replied and with a quick flick of his right hand, hidden golden grains arose from beneath the plants and gathered around the bottom of Kagome's body. She squealed delightfully at the familiar ticklish feeling and once the hold was secure, the sand with Kagome riding on top, flew over to stop a few feet above the water.

"_I haven't done this for a while,_" the young woman thought excitedly. She stood up only to gasp in shock when having lost her balance on the golden cloud. Without hesitation, Gaara manipulated the sand to secure her clumsy fall.

Laughing nervously the embarrassed wielder of shining dark hair muttered, "Arigatou." Once again she closed her eyes and started sinking into the familiarity with the sand. Then without sight her body began moving on its own accord and a smile of success was painted onto her face, while Gaara watched with amusement. She moved with even more grace than she had had at the performance.

Gaara felt that he could've watched her for hours more while she whirled and twirled with mesmerizing techniques. Her movements spoke of happiness, and love. The sand seemed as though it brought her back and closer to him, stealthily gliding across the water. When the Higurashi stopped and opened her eyes, she faced Gaara who was only a foot away.

Seconds of speechlessness passed by before he said in all honesty, "Your dance is beautiful." Tears blurred her vision. For all those days and months all she had wanted was for him to appreciate her and to be impressed by her goal which had been reached. Gaara extended a hand so she could step off the cloud of sand, and she gratefully took it. With no time wasted, she ran into his chest once her feet had made contact with the solid ground.

Her arms wrapped around his body. Gaara held a rare expression in his eyes – still soft for the girl he had admired his whole life; the one who had been the very first to truly love him, who had always been at his side even when others feared him. The only one he could sincerely care for. Hesitant arms finally wrapped around the lovely girl, pressing her to him. She was perhaps his goddess and the light in this cruel world, leading him on and motivating him to keep searching for that one paradise.

"Arigatou, Kagome," he whispered, burying his nose within her soft hair. "For everything."


	3. Eclipse of the Heart: Uchiha Itachi

_**Story: My Courageous Shinobi **_

_**Kagome x Itachi**_

_**Disclaimer: No own.**_

_**Eclipse of the Heart**_

"Doushite," a girl whispered to the boy ahead of her, demise clouding her mind and soul. Bangs covered her blurring eyes from view while she kept her head low. Her fists curled at her side and small droplets of salt water began to fall from beneath the hair covering her bangs. She finally looked up at the young boy with a defiant glare veiled by tears sketched upon her features. "Answer me why. _Why Itachi-san!_" she had screamed the last part out.

Itachi's back did not move even an inch, his stature flawless. "Answer you, Kagome?" his bold voice struck her by surprise. He looked up at the full moon. "For power." The kunoichi's eyes widened with disbelief. Her nails had begun to pierce the skin of her palms in outrage.

"Power," she echoed his very word in a whisper. "You slaughtered your clan, and you're going to abandon the Hidden Leaf Village. You're willing to leave behind your whole life – even to become a missing-nin. For power?" He finally turned to face her, blood-red eyes full of desire. It was as if those very orbs were tearing the poor girl's soul bit by bit.

"That is what I have decided." And whenever Uchiha Itachi had ever set his mind on something, it was unlikely that he wouldn't achieve his goal. Kagome folded her arms, and tear stained eyes turned to look away from the intimidating gaze. She averted and narrowed her eyes with a frown.

"You were everything I had ever wanted to be, Itachi-san. Always getting the top grades, jounin at ten, ANBU Captain at your age thirteen. I looked up to you. You were my sense of motivation and I'd push myself harder every day." He said nothing, and she scowled at him. "At least stay here at Konoha!" More tears began to fall from her eyes. "I don't want to be without you." she added with a faint whisper, her voice beginning to crack yet again. No it just wouldn't do without this young man in her life.

"_Itachi-san, let's have a match!" an excited twelve year old Kagome asked her peer. His eyes flickered over to her, but just as quickly went back to studying his new set of shuriken. The girl raised an eyebrow at his silence with distaste. "Just once?" _

"_With you a match would be pointless." Kagome fumed at his comment._

"_What do you mean 'pointless'? You jerk!" She saw no reaction from the Uchiha prodigy and Kagome sighed. Then an idea registered within her mind. The young girl reached inside the pouch fastened to the right side of her pants, extracting a sharp kunai from it. She gulped and readied herself. Surely the great Uchiha could deflect her ambush? _

_With a quick swish of the wind the weapon was released onto its target. Aimed directly for the boy's head. A sharp 'kink' rang throughout the area, the sound of metal against metal. Kagome – who had been closing her eyes- slowly opened them to see the head still connected to a neck. Behind Itachi's head was his hand holding a shuriken. He had managed to pull it out at the right time just so he wouldn't be hit, and in doing so the kunai had clashed with the perfectly placed weapon. _

"_Sugoi..." the amazed girl had whispered. He turned around with a raised eyebrow._

"_Do you intend to kill me?" Kagome took a nervous step back. She raised her hands as if to stop him while shaking her head as a negative._

"_Iie, Itachi-san. I wanted to test you." Without another word he turned around, continuing the act of concerning his shuriken. _

"_If you wish to fight me," Kagome's eyes widened while she anticipated the rest of his words. "Then raise yourself to the same or higher rank." With that said he packed his belongings back to his own pouch, standing up afterwards. "From there on if you challenge me, don't expect to come out of it alive." He turned and started to walk towards the direction of where she stood. While he passed her, Kagome felt as if a gentle but forceful breeze had rushed against her body._

"_I will." she whispered with determination. From that day on Kagome had trained with such intensity that normal children wouldn't have even bothered with. Even when she had become chuunin she did not stop, for the Uchiha seemed as if he was always one step ahead._

Itachi turned away from her, Kagome not knowing if she had even affected him at all. He began to walk away without a word. The girl had raised a hand in front of her as if trying to catch him. She took in a deep breath before shaping her body into a straight stance, her legs straight up and arms at her side. "I love you," she spoke quietly. Inky black bangs once again covered her alluring pure eyes. Itachi had stopped walking when he had heard her declaration. His eyes hardened.

"Love," he sneered. "Love is a weak emotion that confuses and weakens you. Hatred will make you stronger by pushing you forward." Kagome's eyes widened at his cruel remark. Slowly, a sad smile played itself onto her lips. A silent moment had passed between the two with only the quiet chirping of crickets. Sounds of the Uchiha's footsteps radiated around the air while they grew farther from her ears. Kagome raised her arm to rapidly wipe away at the tears. She blinked twice before a new and more confident look graced her face.

"Itachi-san!" she yelled while pointing at his retreating form with a stern finger. "Then I'll just have to work even harder to become one of the ANBU. I'll find you after that, and we'll fight for sure!" Itachi did not stop or say anything, but he inwardly smirked. The kunoichi left behind fell to her knees. She started to repeatedly punch the concrete floor with her right fist.

Blood and salt water began to dilute together on the once pure white, tainting it. "Doushite, _Doushite!_" She just couldn't allow herself to accept his answer. She couldn't believe that he would leave so much behind in order to lust after power when he had already been capable of such a bright future ahead of him. From within her pouch she drew out several poisoned shuriken. They dropped from her fingers into the small puddle of blood and tears. A hue of purple revealed itself.

"I couldn't even bring myself to try and kill him." she muttered with disappointment. "And now the village could be threatened years from now. What kind of kunoichi am I?" She'd have to make up for it no matter what. Even at the cost of her life, she would seek out the boy who had ensnared her heart. And they would fight. One of them would die at the other's hand.

**Present Time**

She gasped at the excruciating pain located at her legs. The young woman being unable to move at her current state could only stare at her enemies through the eyes of her ANBU mask. The larger one who resembled a shark had been the one to damage her legs with his over-sized sword, immobilizing her from running. After she had been in contact with the devious sword, the girl had concluded that the sword did not 'slice' but instead 'rippped' apart its victims to pieces.

Kunai and shuriken had also been embedded within her body from earlier on. This female had been sent on a mission with three other ANBU members. Uchiha Itachi had been rumored to have been traveling close by, so Konoha dispatched them to assassinate him. And there he was right in front of her, standing next to the 'shark man'. However the mission had failed. Her eyes lingered over to three lifeless bodies on the ground – all who had been met with gruesome fates.

She heard rough chuckling coming from the shark-like criminal. "This was the only girl they sent. How about it, Itachi? Let's at least see her face before killing her like the others." The shorter young man kept his gaze on the frozen girl.

"I don't care. Just hurry Kisame." he spoke frigidly. The girl almost shivered at the tone of his voice, for it reminded her of memories. With no hesitation, the one known as Kisame swung his sword with expertise. The blow headed towards the girl was strong enough to break the mask, but purposely not enough to damage anything else.

_No, why does he have to see me like this? _She thought sadly. The sound of the object on her face cracking echoed in her ears. Finally it shattered, and disappointed brown eyes met cryptic ruby ones. Even if he had had a smirk of triumph on his face, it would be invisible to the girl revealed as Kagome due to the clothing covering it.

"Well what do you know, she's quite cute." Kisame said with amusement. Kagome only glared at him with hatred.

"Kisame," The man who was directed to, turned to Itachi. "Go on to Konoha." The larger missing-nin raised an eyebrow.

"Do you know this wench?" When the Uchiha said nothing, he took it as a sign to leave. In a flash of speed Kisame was gone, leaving the two alone – with the exception of three dead bodies. Kagome's fist curled when amusement danced in Itachi's eyes.

"Is this how you planned to face me?" at his smug comment, Kagome turned her head away in shame. As if on cue, she started to cough with blood emitting from her mouth. "It's quite pathetic, wouldn't you agree?" he spoke harshly.

"Urusai." she turned to him while she spat the word at him. "_Urusai_! What can you call pathetic, when you abandoned your own village to lust after power?" she yelled with distaste at him. Itachi's eyes flashed but she didn't turn away in fear – no, not this time. He then closed the space between them and kneeled down to her level. She sighed when their eyes met, "I should've killed you before. Now you're going back to cause problems for Konoha. But why?"

"I want the boy possessed by Kyuubi." Kagome coughed once again, a slim line of blood flowing from her lips. She glared at him. Itachi had skipped on telling her that she never would've even had the chance to kill him before.

"You want Uzumaki Naruto." she stated bluntly. Her chest heaved with difficulty while her condition only grew worse. "You won't get him so easily," Itachi's eyes narrowed. "I've heard lots of things about that guy Naruto. And someone like _you_ won't be able to get your hands on him." Another vicious cough erupted from her mouth.

"An injured person shouldn't speak of such useless things." Itachi's face neared her own, as if trying to intimidate her. Their noses were only inches apart and Kagome gritted her teeth at the closeness.

"The jerk that knows only hate shouldn't act so cool." she muttered with a tone just loud enough for him to hear. The male smirked.

"And the vulnerable girl who believes strongly in love," he stated dryly. Kagome's eyes widened and she lost her breath when she felt something soft against her lips. He just as quickly pulled away. "Is tricked just as easily." When realization had hit her, Kagome grimaced. "You still harbor feelings for me, and that is why you are weak. You are not of a higher level than I, nor are you the same. So frankly, you still cannot challenge me." His face was still close to hers while he spoke.

"You were capable of great strength but instead you gave into weakness, growing up that way. You may wish to think that you've become stronger but the final result is that you are weak. Regardless of whatever shinobi rank you may be. This is all because of your foolish belief. And it will be your downfall." he continued while rubbing her long black hair between his fingers.

With pain on her mind, Kagome found it quite hard to think. "You're wrong," she had managed. Itachi's gaze only grew even more intense. She sighed, "Love only raised me to become stronger. It gave me friends and those who care about me. You may have gotten stronger, Itachi-san, but do you have anyone to fight for? Because I held feelings for you, my will was solid. And I," she paused with the difficulty to speak. "I've accomplished my goal – to either kill you, or to die before your eyes."Her eyes slowly closed themselves, her heartbeat slowing down by every second.

"And I still love you," she whispered, tears falling like they had years ago the day when Itachi had abandoned her. "Even though it just wasn't enough. I just pray that someday you'll realize what you meant to me. I have no regrets..." were her last words. Her breathing had stopped. He released his soft hold on her hair and stood up.

Itachi stared at the corpse of the girl he once knew. "You were one of the few I had ever respected, Higurashi Kagome. You could've grown more powerful." Within moments he was jumping from tree to tree, leading himself to where he would reunite with his partner Kisame. But the deceased kunoichi's words were still pestering his mind.

_You may have gotten stronger, Itachi-san, but do you have anyone to fight for? I fought for you, and I've gotten stronger. Because I held feelings for you, my will was solid. And I...I've accomplished my goal – to either kill you, or to die before your eyes._

**Hmm, quite the dark chapter? I kind of like it though So here's the Itachi/Kagome, next will probably either be Kiba or Yondaime. If you're looking for a Kiba/Kag you might want to try my story Shinjite Aijou, which I will be updating soon. So it'll most likely be Yondaime next. Oh and yes, I think I'll be doing a short Kakashi. Oh YEAH and I saw the review from ShihanKitsune concerning Hagane Kotetsu and Kamizuki Izumo. They're cute :D So probably yes to those also. On the way I'm considering Kabuto/Jiraiya too. Goodnight, and hopefully you leave behind a nice review. **

**Doushite: Why**


	4. A Man's Last Service: Yondaime Hokage

_**Story: My Courageous Shinobi**_

_**Kagome x Yondaime**_

_**Disclaimer: No own.**_

_**A Man's Last Service**_

"Kagome!" Yondaime exclaimed while he made his way to her. The energetic and young Hokage seated himself next to the female ANBU in a field of flowers.

She looked up after hearing her name being called, and smiled at the blonde male. "You're on time again," she stated with awe. In all her life of knowing this particularly crafty man, he had never been late for anything no matter what.

He flashed her a proud grin. "You know that I'm always on schedule." She shrugged her curiosity away, facing the seemingly endless flower-filled field. As if he caught on, Yondaime asked, "So why the sudden meeting here?"

Kagome cocked her head to the right to face him with a look of bewilderment on her face. "Eh, you're telling me you don't remember?" When the look of confusion didn't recede from his face she sighed, "Baka, this is where we first met!"

After a few minutes of reminiscing, Yondaime raised a hand and placed it behind his head with a laugh. "How could I have forgotten?"

_A teenage girl lay sprawled over the grassy plain on her stomach. It rained fiercely, and droplets of water ran down her face to emphasize her sorrow. "It's not fair," she whispered with despair. Her fingers gripped the healthy grass with such intensity. Why had her life have to be so complicated?_

"_Daijoubu ka?" a friendly voice asked her. Kagome quickly sprang up from her position, slightly embarrassed to have been caught at the state she was currently in. She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at the sudden intruder. "You shouldn't be out in the rain," he spoke again, plopping down next to her._

_Kagome snorted without a care, "Neither should you." She examined the boy next to her. He had spiky blonde hair, cheerful azure eyes, and wore the green vest and black pants that most Konoha-nin would wear. She adjusted her hair so most of it was over her shoulder and wouldn't block her view. "Why are you out here?" she asked bluntly. _

_The boy who had been sitting cross-legged besides her answered simply, "I've been training." _

"_In this weather?" Kagome asked with shock. The wind had been quite harsh, and the clouds kept emptying themselves of never ending tears. Most of the residents within Konoha had gladly confined themselves to their toasty and welcoming homes. _

_The blonde nodded. "If you can move swiftly in the rain, you might even be able to run at the speed of light in normal weather." _

"_You actually believe that?" the kunoichi asked with bewilderment. _

_He beamed at her with a cocky smirk. "Mochiron! My sensei told me so." _

_Kagome scoffed, but was entertained by his enthusiasm as her mood began changing drastically. "Well, if you say so." The two felt as if the rain had been getting lighter by each minute and looked up to see in their view, gray clouds receiving a brighter shade. "I think the rain will stop soon," the female murmured._

"_No matter how harsh anything might be, it won't last forever," the male beside her stated with an obvious tone. His words echoed within her mind. _

"_No matter how harsh...won't last forever." she mimicked. _

_He raised a firm eyebrow. "You shouldn't cry; I bet you'd look even prettier without tears!" Kagome blushed at the comment, at the same time wondering how he'd known that she had been breaking out with salty water running down her face. She mentally smacked herself. Puffy, red eyes probably did the trick. Before she knew it, in front of her was a hand holding a healthy and pretty flower with emerald petals. "Even though we don't really know each other, let's be friends. No matter what your problem is, I'll listen. Just don't cry." _

_The young kunoichi smiled at his kind words and accepted the flower. "Arigatou."_

"Ah yeah. The problem had been about your cousin Kikyou, and being pressured into becoming a stronger medic-nin than her," he mused. "And now you're one of the most talented ANBU. Not to mention, the best looking one in my point of view."

Yondaime flashed her a wide grin and Kagome laughed happily, leaning on the blonde man's shoulder afterwards. "You always know just what to say, to make me smile."

**Few Years Later**

"Please, just a few more pushes!" the nurse encouraged exasperatedly. Dreaded screams of pain came without stop from the woman on the bed. A thin layer of sweat covered her whole body while she gripped the hand on the man beside her. He gritted his teeth a little to try and suppress the pain – what ungodly strength his wife could prove to have in times of pain or intense emotions.

And the worst day it was for his lover to be giving birth to their child. Kyuubi was currently terrorizing the entire village, but Yondaime stayed by her side. He wouldn't have been able to forgive himself if he had left her to experience the pain without any support. He loved everyone in the village like family, and only wished he could save them all in time.

A grim and regretful look glazed his eyes, accompanied by another shrill scream. _She's growing weak at a rapid pace. Her life is slipping away from her grasp. And at this rate..._ He bit down on his lower lip. As if on cue, Kagome stopped her yells of agony, and instead this time the piercing cry of an infant presented itself. The nurse gingerly took hold of the child and wrapped him in layers of warm blankets.

"Hokage-sama," she whispered proudly while handing the baby over to him. He nodded and gratefully took hold of it, taking a close look at the child. It had pure blue eyes and a tuft of blonde hair – just like him. "Congratulations. You have given birth to a boy," the nurse said with a curt nod towards Kagome.

Although very weak, her motherly instincts took over as she reached out towards the small bundle. "Onegai, let me hold him." Yondaime gently placed the small boy in her hands, watching while the infant stopped his cries and the mother cooed with caring words. However, even though the labor was over, she still had trouble breathing and sweat still continued to coat her entire body. The young Hokage gave a nod towards the nurse.

Seeing that her time of service was over, she bowed and left the room. Kagome sighed, "Arigatou, for giving me such a beautiful child, dearest. He looks just like you!"

Yondaime smiled at her. "I can tell that he'll inherit your stubborn will and kindness." He crouched down so that he would be at her level. The blonde-haired man placed a loving hand on the side of her face. Kagome leaned into the affectionate touch before her eyes suddenly widened at a sudden realization.

She placed her own hand on top of his. "How could I forget...you have to hurry! The village – and Kyuubi!"

He gave her a nod. "Shinpai na. The kitsune will be taken care of."

Kagome's expression changed to a calmer one and she laughed with a bittersweet essence. "Yondaime, who is never late. He can't even save his own village right now because of a dying wife."

His eyes widened sadly. "Don't say something like that," he ordered sternly.

Kagome's vision began to blur with tears. "The truth can't be denied. I...I'm not going to be here any longer. Every experienced medic-nin knows when her end is near." She averted her eyes and placed them on the infant, while the respectful male turned his head away. "You told me before that you love this village and everyone in it with your whole heart. So don't let them perish under Kyuubi any longer." Her words impacted him with such intensity though he had to agree just a little. Tears slipped down her face and she turned to face the man. "Aishiteru, dearest."

She extended a weak hand to him, and Yondaime took it with a firm grip. "Aishiteru, aisuru." he replied.

"My dream can't come true," she whispered with a sad smile. "It seems I won't be able to watch my child grow up and become a great leaf-nin, nor will I be able to die at a ripe old age alongside my husband's grave. But I want to ask of you one more favor, before I go." She gathered the small child in her arms and lifted it up, nudging for her husband to hold the bundle. "If I were ever to be a mother, I wanted to be there for my child and ensure that he would never be alone. If this boy," she paused afterwards, stealing a loving glance from the child who was reaching out with his petite arms. "Ever became a hero, he would be acknowledged and would never have to be without anyone."

Yondaime paid attention to her every word. For he knew that every single one was accurate. There was either a slim – or no chance at all – that he would come back from the final battle with Kyuubi alive. "I see what you're saying," he encouraged her with a soft tone.

She relaxed and smiled at him. "I love you." He found it quite amazing that his wife wasn't cursing him. For if it hadn't been for him, she wouldn't have been at the end of her life so quickly. She wouldn't have had to die so soon had it not been for childbirth.

Yondaime grinned at her with the same cocky style he had used in his life over and over. "Just wait for me, aisuru."

She nodded before turning her head to stare yet again at the ceiling. "Naruto. Please name the child Naruto." With that said she slowly closed her eyes, flowing away into a deep sleep that would soon steal away her life. Yondaime stood there for what seemed like hours, staring at her fatigued body. The loveliest woman he had ever laid his eyes on, who carried around with her the heart of gold. He averted his eyes to the child in his arms.

"You will be a hero like she wishes. Naruto, _my son_." The infant began to cry, as if he knew that his mother had departed and was never to come back.

"Stall it for just a little longer – until Hokage-sama comes!" a jounin bellowed to his comrades. The other leaf-nin continued their strenuous work, trying to protect their families and friends from the vicious kitsune youkai before their very eyes. The men let out a final roar of cheers when they saw the giant frog named Gamabunta, and their village leader on the top of its head.

The earth cracked under the sudden steps of the giant amphibian. "Are you ready?" he grunted to the human man.

The blonde-haired Hokage nodded in response. "Aa." He clasped his hands together, preparing himself for the ultimate and forbidden sealing jutsu; Shiki Fuujin.

Yondaime blinked when a sudden bright light shined before him. A figure similar to Kagome's flew closer to him, and when the distance was no longer than a foot he could make out the image to be his dear wife. The deceased kunoichi's spirit extended a hand to him, with the same grin that he adored.

"_I'm waiting dearest,"_ her spirit murmured softly to him. A difficult and lone tear slid down his cheek. Stray flower petals of emerald danced before his eyes under the control of the breeze.

_I'll fulfill your wish, aisuru. My first and last to our son, my final one to you. _

**Afterwards**

Yondaime furrowed his brows together before opening his eyes. He felt someone warm embracing him and when he tilted his head up, in his view was Kagome with a gentle smile on her face. He had been lying down with upper body being cradled by his sensuous lover.

The blonde-man suddenly jerked up and turned his head to Kagome with a shocked expression. "Kyuubi-" he managed before being shushed by a finger.

"He's sealed and the village is safe. Don't worry anymore," the kunoichi explained with an amused curve of the lips. He covered her petite hand with his own larger one before turning around and relaxing into her hold once again. Kagome lowered the arm that had been closest to his face to lie across his chest. She placed her other free arm to wrap around his lower stomach.

Yondaime sighed, "So we're dead now, ne? Whoever knew that it would be so peaceful up here." he joked while taking another look over their surroundings. Flowers, flowers, and even more flowers. Though it seemed as though some godly light - enhancing the beauty, illuminated the whole land.

His lover laughed lightly. "Hai, I guess we can just relax now. Though," A troubled thin line ran across Kagome's forehead. "I'm sort of worried about Naruto. I get this tingling feeling..."

"He might have a rough start I expect, but he's our son. But with a strong heart and will like yours, he'll be fine." Yondaime explained.

His lover sighed with relief, "If it's like you said, he'll become great and powerful like you."

Yondaime nodded. "I could see it in his eyes – he received the best qualities from both of us. But for the meantime," He suddenly turned around and grabbed Kagome, falling and bringing her down with him while she managed only a small squeak of surprise. "I'm thinking that spending eternity up here might be a little too peaceful. So let's make use of the time we have. Like this," he said with a grin.

The two were now nothing more than a tangled mess on the grass with long black hair attempting to blend in with medium-length blonde locks. Yondaime had wrapped his arms around the female next to him, bringing her closer. Kagome laughed with amusement. "I'd love to," she said while snuggling deeper into his chest. Her eyes closed again while she took off on a light nap. Yondaime stared lovingly at the kunoichi while his grip tightened just a little.

Even though her eyes were closed yet again, she wouldn't be ripped apart from him like last time. He smiled at the thought. "Never again." he whispered before falling into a light snooze himself.

**Hello everyone, thanks for reading yet another chapter of MCS! I do like how this chapter came out. Like why Yondaime was late, and why he sealed the Kyuubi within Naruto. I'm not very sure if Naruto is indeed his son, but guess work by many fans so I'll stick to that with this chapter. I've also heard that Yondaime's real name is Uzumaki Arashi, but it's only been translated by fans – and many other people say that it's not true. So, I stuck to Kagome calling him dearest instead – which I can see her doing for her loved one. **

**Okay so next chapter shall be...either Kabuto or Naruto! But I REALLY wanna also do Yashamaru! So either of those 3! Though at the end – whenever that'll be – I'll have done every pairing anyways. Reviews please and let me know if I did something wrong, needing improvements, comments, etc!**

**Aisuru: Beloved, sweetheart, etc.**

**Mochiron: Of course!**

**Daijoubu ka: Are you okay?**

**Shinpai na: Don't worry**

**Shiki Fuujin: Most dangerous and forbidden sealing technique where you give up your own life to seal your target into whomever. Sandaime used this on Orochimaru in ep. 75 – though sadly it didn't work.**


	5. Beautifully Blind: Uzumaki Naruto

_**Story: My Courageous Shinobi**_

_**Kagome x Naruto**_

_**Disclaimer: No own except my original characters.**_

_**Beautifully Blind**_

"Odama Rasengan!" Naruto bellowed before driving a great spiraling ball of chakra within his hand at the enemy-nin's stomach. When the man was hit he let out a yell of anger and demise before being thrown into an innocent tree – breaking it on contact. "How's that?" the blonde genin grunted tiredly. He fell to the floor with only his right leg propped up to support him.

"Daijoubu ka?" a female's weary and approaching voice asked him. Naruto turned his head to see a limping Kagome – she had been on his team for the mission – clutching a bleeding shoulder. She sighed with relief and took a step behind him, plopping down to sit with the boy back to back. "We were wrong to have told Hokage-sama that we could handle the mission by ourselves," she told him with a bit of difficulty.

Naruto snorted before lowering his right leg to sit down cross-legged and lean against her back, "Dou iu koto da, Kagome-chan? We did fine – no, great! And the missions over now. We've got all of the missing-nin!" When the girl didn't answer, Naruto began to grow a bit suspicious and turned around to see what her current expression was. She seemed troubled. "Doushita?"

Kagome's right left hand which had been closed on her damaged shoulder unconsciously rubbed against the injury. His eyes widened at the deep gash that revealed itself through the torn clothing and extended his own hand to try and help her though she slightly moved away, declining him. "We're in trouble right now, Naruto-kun."

The boy frowned with a disappointing look in his eyes in response to her cryptic sentences. "Alright, what's the problem here? You're giving me answers with big holes in the center. And you have a really serious wound! If we leave it untreated for too long...well, let's just get out of here and back to Konoha! Sakura-chan or Tsunade-babaa should be able to help once we get there." Naruto avoided telling the kunoichi about what she already knew. That if her arm was disabled, Kagome wouldn't be able to perform any sort of jutsu for the rest of her life – which was a real shame for any nin.

His raven-haired companion gave a slight frown when she realized his words. "Gomen nasai, so desu ne." Kagome took a few seconds to carefully select her words, not wanting to upset her brave friend. "I'm not a hundred percent sure, but I think that we have one last guy to take care of." Naruto was stuck in the state of confusion until Kagome raised and pointed with a stern finger, at a dead body lingering on the ground a few steps ahead of them.

Within only minutes, the skin on the pale face began to peel off. The two did their best to hold back their looks of disdain at the grotesque scene. Naruto's eyes widened when the 'true face' had looked nothing like the sly disguise. "That's the guy that turned himself in!"

_Naruto advanced forward and prepared himself for the man in front of him who gritted his teeth. The blonde reached inside his pouch and pulled out a sharp kunai, ready for blood. "Matte, matte!" the man exclaimed with raised hands. Kagome blinked with uncertainty and averted her eyes to Naruto, anticipating his next move. _

"_Eh, nani? Can't you fight without your friends behind your back? I'm being fair and heading in so we can battle one on one!" an infuriated male genin yelled with a curled fist. _

_The missing-nin sighed, "I don't even know why I joined them to abandon Iwagakure. They were just some friends that I'd known since childhood. I don't want trouble – in fact, I'll turn myself in right now!" Naruto's kunai slipped out of his hand due to his shock at the answer while the Higurashi kunoichi's lips twitched all on their own instinct. The now former missing-nin took one look at both of their funny responses and put a hand behind his head, letting loose a friendly chuckle. "Sorry for the trouble, but I guess you've got one down."_

Kagome cringed when a shock of pain shot up from her injury, a bead of sweat running down the side of her forehead. She turned away from the sight of the dead man with a grimace on her face. "He must've been under control by some kind of jutsu, so that the other guy could be sure of his safety. You can tell by signs that he tried to resist." And her words were true of the unfortunate being. His eyes were filled with disbelief and surprise, while his mouth was open just enough to allow a scream to pass through.

Although Naruto had barely even known the young man, he felt a dark pool of anger forming inside him. "That coward... He sacrificed his own comrade...for his _own_ safety!" he yelled in outrage.

"That guy even called this group of missing-nin his friends." Kagome sadly mused. The girl's eyebrows then furrowed. "But we're still in danger. The remaining nin has to be found – he could even be planning to overtake us by surprise."

Naruto narrowed his eyes while studying the area beyond them. "Exactly something a bastard like him would try." The two leaf-nin drew from their side pouches either a kunai or several shuriken.

"I won't be able to perform any jutsu for now, but I'll do my best to cover you." Kagome told the boy behind her with an apologetic tone.

Naruto smirked in response while working his legs to raise himself up from the ground. "Iie, Kagome-chan. Don't worry 'causeI'll protect you_ – _I promise. I shouldn't have let you get hurt so much."

The kunoichi's eyes widened at his declaration and the only action she could provide at the moment was a nod while she timidly pulled herself up to stand. "Un, Arigatou. But I'll try my best too." The mountain that the two stood on grew eerie with the silence. Two pairs of eyes darted warily from every ledge to all the wide cracks, waiting for an attack.

A sharp 'zing' presented itself and Kagome turned to face the source. In counting, five shuriken were heading towards her at an incredible pace. _There's no time to waste! _The female target thought worriedly. With haste she calculated the area of the enemy's weapons and launched her own set of shuriken. The girl gave herself a mental cheer when she heard the famous 'king' of metal against metal, though her expression morphed into a surprised one when a stray kunai headed for her as a second line.

Kagome closed her eyes but when feeling no pain at all, she opened them to see a black-clothed arm holding shielding her. Blood dripped down from her savior's arm and the kunoichi turned to see Naruto gritting his teeth. While trying to resist the piercing pain, he gave her an uneasy but assuring smile. "Heh. My kunai was supposed to block it, but everything worked out all the same."

"Naruto...kun." Kagome whispered sadly. A sudden 'bang' rang in their ears and before the two of them could register what was happening, a quick blur ran towards them and unleashed a strong kick on the blonde . The poor boy flew backwards with small traces of blood marking the way he had gone. He descended from the air and slid against the hard mountain floor in a pointless battle against friction.

Using his hands, Naruto pushed himself back up on his legs and wiped against his lips with the back of his right in an attempt to clean off the blood but only smearing it. "So you've finally decided to come out." he sneered. The despicable man who had kicked him now stood right next to Kagome, and Naruto's eyes grew wide at the realization. "Get away from her!" he yelled.

In response the older male chuckled, "Is she a friend of yours?" Without another word, he grabbed the girl by the hair and began to pull mercilessly. The disgruntled Higurashi let loose a sharp, "Let me go!" at the pain and clawed at his hand with her nails.

"Dammit!" the man bellowed and with fierce strength he forced her hair forward, allowing Kagome to follow after it and landing quiet unceremoniously next to Naruto.

"Kagome! Daijoubu ka?" her companion asked after helping her up. The girl nodded with a glare towards her offender while muttering something like 'jerk', trying not to show the irritation her already injured shoulder had received. "Yarou!" Naruto yelled with an accusing finger pointed at the remaining missing-nin.

The criminal laughed, "Concerned, eh? Well then I suppose you'd rather that I beat _you_ senseless instead of her – for now. Actually, she'll be the main course while you can be the simple appetizer. Your companion seems acceptable and not _too_ young, so that'd be enough fun for tonight." He paused to take a look at the two in front of him. The girl held fear in her eyes while the other seemed to be fuming and angry. "Ah, well before we start you should know my name. I am Chikara Aku."

Naruto smacked his right fist into his left open palm. "And I'm Uzumaki Naruto – the guy who's gonna kick your ass."

Kagome warily nudged the boy beside her. "Be careful. I get the feeling that this guy's the most brutal and daring one." she whispered.

"I've got the perfect plan for the both of you – and like I said, that blonde kid'll go down first. I'm in luck since you two are far too injured for your own goods. As a parting gift...observe and learn to cherish the area behind you, because it'll be your grave." Naruto did as told and bit his lips at what he saw.

A few steps behind him and Kagome was a rather steep cliff, and below that was what seemed to be an endless abyss filled with sharp stalactites sticking out at the sides. "Don't freeze up on me now!" Aku's voice told him. It was like slow motion for Naruto while he turned around to face his enemy. He was a tad bit too late for a kunai in Aku's closed hand had already descended upon him.

Even he knew when death was only a few centimeters away, seeing that his attention had been easily diverted. _Am I really going to die because of something so stupid? _That question echoed itself from within his mind. Naruto let out a small grunt when he felt someone pushing him to the side. When he finally looked up he saw that Kagome had saved him from his detestable fate.

Aku stomped his right foot on the ground once to express his anger while Kagome stepped back, being careful of the distance she had between the cliff and of the searing pain coming from her wound due to her rash action. "Baka shoujo! You can die first then!" Without hesitation, Aku swiped his kunai horizontally across the girl's face.

A small scream erupted from the kunoichi's lips at the new burning sensation – coming directly from her eyes. She raised her left arm and pressed the sleeve against her face as if trying to soothe the wound, though it did not help at all and only soaked her clothing in more blood. "Kagome!" Naruto bellowed. Aku smirked at his new accomplishment and pushed the girl in front of him, none too gently and just enough so she would fall into oblivion.

The blonde could do nothing but extend a hand towards her falling form, unable to say anything. "Baka Naruto-kun..." He heard Kagome whisper. And just like that she fell into the deep abyss of rocks and doom, no longer standing beside him.

Aku was taken by surprise and could do nothing when the once fallen boy began to glow red – and chakra began to leak out of him at incredible amounts. Naruto charged at the older man with what seemed like god speed, landing strong punches to his stomach. "Chikuso, you bastard!" And without another word, the blonde genin jumped head-first from the cliff to follow after his companion. As for the missing-nin Aku, he had fainted from the sudden impact of powerful blows.

Naruto adjusted himself so he could fall even faster to catch up with the unconscious girl ahead of him. When they were at the same level he prayed, "C'mon out, boss!" The blonde bit his thumb to draw a bit of blood and performed the needed hand seals. For the final part he placed his right palm face down in front of him. "Kuchiyose no Jutsu!" He then grabbed onto Kagome's waist so she couldn't stray away. Naruto closed his eyes while preparing for the worst if the King of Toads wouldn't come.

"Hey kid, what's the big idea with having me save you from another fall for the second time?" a rough and agitated yet familiar voice interrogated him. Naruto sighed with relief when he finally felt the tough skin of Gamabunta that had broken both his and Kagome's fall. Naruto's calm exterior had cracked however, when he could feel some sort of warm liquid gathering around him. The blonde pulled back his right hand which he had been using to hold on to Kagome, and found it tainted with lines of red.

**Konohagakure**

While unforgiving droplets of rain poured in on him, Naruto ran with all the might and speed that he could muster just so he could get to the Hokage Tower without any time wasted. To those who were minding their own business, they would be lucky enough to catch a glimpse of orange and black with a touch of blonde. When he had ran up the long way of stairs, Naruto without any care at all pushed through the great doors leading to the office and ran inside.

The blonde slammed his hands down on the Hokage's desk, stray drops of rain and sweat presenting themselves to the legendary female sennin. "Tsunade-babaa!" he gasped while trying to regain his breathing composure.

Shizune's abrupt surprise at Naruto's entrance had receded while the older woman gave the boy a wave of her left hand with a sigh, "About Higurashi right? Due to her request, she's currently resting up at her home. And if it's her life that you're concerned about – don't worry."

Naruto scowled at Tsunade. "Of course I didn't expect her to die from _scratches_ like that! I want to know if her wounds are recovering." The blonde-haired female thoughtfully tapped her chin with a manicured finger.

"Her shoulder should be alright in a matter of time," A small hint of a smile began to reveal itself at the corner of Naruto's lips. "But her eyesight..." The happy curve on the genin's face was gone in a mere second. He slammed his right hand on the surface of the wooden desk once again.

"Hold on a second! Are you telling me-"

Tsunade did the honor of finishing his sentence. "She's blind, Naruto." The boy slowly stepped back while his hands followed and slid off the once abused material. Tsunade watched the leaf-nin in front of her with a pitying expression – though it changed into a frown. "There are times when a soldier must give up something invaluable to accomplish his or her goal, I'm sure you know. Don't dwell on the thought that perhaps Kagome sacrificed her ability to see for nothing. She contributed to the mission's...success."

Naruto gave her a slow nod, though he still seemed troubled. "Oi Tsunade-babaa, about the mission though. There was one guy left but I kinda was in a hurry to sa-"

He was cut off by a raised hand from the woman. "Oh, about that. I believe that man was the one named 'Aku' right? He was found unconscious and the rock-nin took him in. Whatever they do to him it won't matter since the mission all in all has been concluded as a success."

Naruto softly muttered, "That's all I needed to know." He then began to make his way to the doors to exit the room. The growing pang of guilt reigning in his heart due to Kagome's current condition didn't fail to show itself in his movements either. He needed to speak with her – to at least see her.

"Oi, Naruto," the strong voice of the Hokage called out to him. He turned and Tsunade's eyes made contact with him once again. "This might be hard for you to understand. But don't be hasty and show yourself up in front of Kagome just yet." Her words struck Naruto like lightning.

"Nani!" he demanded of the woman.

Tsunade sighed, "She's fifteen like yourself and still a girl – though you might not understand. I'm sure it wouldn't be easy for any everyday teenage female to accept that she will now be blind."

"Can't you help her?" the boy pleaded.

**Afterwards**

Sakura hummed to herself a light and catchy tune while she rearranged the baked goods on the shelf. When all the work had been finished she sighed, "It's just so gloomy, and the rain sure doesn't help." Tsunade had promised the pink-haired kunoichi that she'd teach her something new on this day and Sakura had been excited – at least until heaven had to start crying for reasons unknown to her. But nevertheless, she'd decided to take over the family bakery for the evening and allow her mother to rest.

Through the window the girl saw what seemed to be the figure of a male. "What kind of person would be out on a day like this?" she asked herself. In the rain, the guy she could see through the window had taken to a new position and sat down in the middle of Konoha's cold streets. Sakura sort of panicked for a moment while considering what to do.

"He could catch a really bad cold and if I was the one who just left him there...no, wait a second! I'm sure even a little kid would be smart enough to heave themselves out of a storm." She then made her mind with a frustrated grunt and reached for the umbrella near the counter, rushing her way out the door.

"Naruto?" she asked the figure. Once Sakura had gotten close enough to the stranger, she had gotten a good look at his clothes through the misty environment. Seeing a mix of orange, black, and blonde – well she'd recognize her ramen-loving friend anywhere.

After hearing his name being called and no longer feeling the rain pounding on him, the boy turned with a befuddled look on his face. Behind him stood the subordinate of Tsunade holding an umbrella up so neither of them would get pelted by the rain. "Sakura-chan? What are you doing here?"

The Haruno girl let loose a smile of relief with a sigh, "You're right in front of the Haruno Bakery." When Naruto didn't say anything, Sakura took it that he didn't know _what_ to tell her. "Well what are you waiting for? Let's go inside and get you warmed up or you'll get a bad cold, baka." Sakura gave Naruto a towel and offered him some bread to which he refused. "Why were you just sitting out there?" the girl probed curiously.

Though it had taken some time just for a short story to be told, Sakura had managed for her guest to tell the whole thing. The truth was that she had already known of Kagome's condition due to connections with the Hokage being her sensei. However, one thing that Sakura had newly discovered was that Naruto was feeling an immense guilt and that Tsunade's last words were weighing him down like bricks.

"So she told you to distance yourself from Kagome, did she?" the concerned kunoichi asked. Naruto crossed his arms and turned his head to avoid the girl's eyes. Seeing as how Sakura had known him for quite a while and had even been on the same team as him, she took it as that perhaps it would damage his pride to repeat Tsunade's cold words for the second time. With her fingernails she began to tap the table which was seating her and Naruto while seeming as if in deep thought. Moments of silence passed before Sakura stopped her habit and came to a decision. The kunoichi encouraged her companion to look at her by gingerly placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Fine then, I'll ask you a different question that you'll have an easier time answering. Naruto," Sakura paused with a smile before continuing on. "You never _have_ been someone to follow...'rules' like that, right? So why start now? Especially when someone who you care for is hurt." Her words certainly had effected the boy.

"Sakura-chan..." the blonde murmured to the medic-nin who in turn raised one finger to shush him.

Her emerald eyes were pinned onto his own sapphire ones. "Naruto-baka. Me and Kagome-san aren't the best of friends but if there's one thing I know about her is that she's kind and has some pride too. Don't you think you should at least do her the favor of seeing if she's alright? Showing concern is always-" Sakura's sentence was cut off when Naruto came to an abrupt stand while at the same time causing for her to retrieve back her hand that had been in contact with him.

Naruto raised his head and smiled at her. "Arigatou, Sakura-chan." There were no more words to be said and the boy quickly paced over to the entrance door of the bakery. But before his hand had even touched the doorknob he paused. Naruto then asked quietly, "Is that how you felt about Sasuke? Did you feel scared when he was injured or close to death? Or even guilty when at times he would be the one to get hurt just because he saved you or me? Do you...think you loved him?"

A slight gasp came from Sakura at the sudden question. The blonde must've been brave to ask a question like that about the traitor to Konoha who had joined Orochimaru in search of power. Moments passed and the boy began to regret his action. "You don't have to answer me if it's too personal."

Sakura's eyes widened and she then smiled sadly. "I _did_, Naruto. But now I have duties and I'll fight him without question if I have to." Her words were true with the proof of when Naruto, Sakura, and their new companion Sai had met with Sasuke on a mission to find Orochimaru's true lair. It hadn't been one of those warm and pleasant reunions for the blonde boy and pink-haired kunoichi, however.

Naruto performed a slight nod and exited the shop with haste. The sound of an old wooden door creaking while it closed rang in the lone girl's ear. She lowered her head to stare at her hands which were folded on her lap. "I did...I _did_." Sakura whispered while she swore in her mind that some kind of heavy pain topped with realization coated her heart. Silence passed over before the soft noise of a female sobbing began to echo throughout the bakery. The kunoichi shamefully attempted to hide her face behind two petite hands. Sakura cried, "I loved you Sasuke-kun. I really did...!"

**Higurashi Residence**

"Darn it, not again!" sighed an irritated female. Kagome at the moment was but a defeated heap of mess on the floor of her home. The clothing that she had decided to wear on this day was a simple and comfortable green kimono-robe, which was now speckled with just a little bit of dust. She let loose an aggravated groan and covered her eyes with the back of her right arm. The simple and innocent stairway that the Higurashi chuunin had fallen quite hard from seemed to her as if it was laughing at her.

But the determined girl sprang up from her spot, slightly wincing at the pain her forgotten and damaged shoulder presented. Nonetheless, Kagome raised a firm leg and brought it down hard on the first step of the stairs with her hands forming knuckles at the same time. "I can...beat this weakness." Her left hand unfolded into a flat palm and she slowly raised the fingertips to her closed, bandaged eyes.

Several and sudden hard knocks sounding throughout the living room grabbed the girl's attention and had her jump slightly out of surprise. Kagome raised her arms just a little bit so they could feel around to tell her where she was. After a minute of searching she came to her desired location but before welcoming her guest, the black-haired kunoichi concentrated on her own chakra to see who was on the other side. "Naruto-kun?"

When Kagome opened the door he was but a soaking mess in front of her. The boy didn't do anything except stare at her with a look of seriousness – though of course the disabled kunoichi wouldn't have known of it. "Do you want to come in? It's okay even if you're wet."

But the blonde didn't bother to reply or move his legs at all, his lone right hand raising itself and slowly heading towards the other leaf-nin's covered eyes. When Kagome could feel a callous yet gentle hand caressing what her bandages covered she whispered cautiously, "...Naruto-kun?" The so-called boy felt a burning in his lungs, and another mental stab in his chest. He bit his lips in an attempt of trying to win a war against newfound tears – though it was futile.

"Gomen nasai, Kagome-chan." he whimpered. The girl could only remain silent while cold, stray droplets of rain began to drench her clothes and hair. When she'd registered the meaning of his words, Kagome placed her own hand on top of his.

"You don't have to be." she comforted. "It was either this or your death, and I made the decision so don't apologize. It's going to be hard at first, but I can make it. Please don't be sorry, Naruto-kun." There was no response and the Higurashi girl released a slight gasp when she felt an abrupt action of strong arms wrapping around her; one on her waist and the other on her back, pulling her to the teenage boy across her.

"No. It's not easy at all knowing that you're hurt. I even...I even promised that I'd protect you!" Naruto argued.

Kagome leaned into his embrace. "At that moment when the kunai was headed straight for you, I felt some sort of 'rush' inside me. And even though it's hard to believe, I forgot about my own safety and only knew that I had to protect you." Perhaps it was because she couldn't see him or anyone else, but all the Higurashi girl knew was that she had never been able to speak such bold words.

Once when her parents were still alive, she'd catch hints of them speaking like this. Maybe this was how her mother had felt when her father would from time to time, come home in near death situations. All Naruto could do was slightly tighten his grip around her while his eyes seemed to be in deep thought. The fifteen-year old genin was then reminded of when he had practically dived head-first off a cliff. Just to save the raven-haired kunoichi who was currently held in his arms.

He buried his nose into the depths of her hair and chuckled, "I think I could jump off a cliff just to try and catch you, Kagome-chan. Even if the chances of our survival would be slim, I'd do it without hesitation." Another flashback occurred in his mind – the conversation between him and Sakura. He then fell into a deep thought of consideration which lasted for a few minutes before going on. "And I also think...that I might love you."

**Hokage Tower**

"Tsunade-sama, I've got them!" announced an eager Shizune before handing the blonde woman seated at her desk several papers. The Hokage accepted the sheets and her eyes quickly scanned from each page's top to bottom. When she was finished she placed the white papers down, picking up a red pen in the process.

"The kunai that had struck Higurashi Kagome was filled with an ancient and deadly poison. It's used mainly for the purpose that if the victim was to have survived the battle and made it to his or her village, even an experienced medic-nin still wouldn't be able to figure out the unidentifiable venom – if they had known of the recent contamination of course. Removing it without damaging the patient would be even more difficult. Thus, the result being death or disabling one or several more of the victim's senses."

Shizune questioned, "So would the surgery do the trick, or only put her in a worse situation?"

The soft scribbling noise of something being written on paper appeared to answer her before Tsunade was done and set the pen down. The older woman smirked while folding her arms across her chest. "I've dealt with this kind of poison before when Jiraiya had been injured. And he's still living." Shizune took a small peek at what the blonde woman had written and smiled. In crimson ink was the large number in an even bigger circle, '85'.

**Was this okay? The longest chapter for this story and took kind of a while 0.0 Anyway I hope I didn't make the characters too OOC or anything, and also while I've been thinking of other pairings while this one. I've already been planning a Kagome x Abumi Zaku to be out soon and also a Yashamaru! (Yes yes I know he's done bad for harming Gaara and all, but I adore him :P And to be honest he really didn't use any techniques and only kunais on Gaara) I'm reading all requests and don't worry I'll most likely do them all :D Though I do find Jiraiya and Kabuto kind of...hmm I dono but maybe for those two. Gah, I can't wait for the Zaku one! Oh and also, I'm thinking of doing Sasori (A member of Akatsuki). Alright, hope you had a nice time reading this, and I hopefully you review. Goodbye til next time!**

**Odama Rasengan - In Naruto II, Naruto performs this technique. It's a bigger version of the original Rasengan.**

**Daijoubu ka - Are you okay?**

**Dou iu koto da - What do you mean?**

**Doushita - 'What?', 'What's wrong?'**

**Gomen nasai - I'm sorry**

**Matte - Wait**

**Nani - What?**

**Aa or Un - Male says 'Aa' and females say 'Un' it means like okay, yeah, alright.**

**Yarou - Bastard**

**Chikuso - Dammit**

**Kuchiyose no Jutsu (Technique) - Naruto's summoned animal is Gamabunta, the Kind of Toads.**

**Iwagakure - Hidden Village of Rock**

**Kunoichi - Female ninja**


	6. Selfish Desires: Uchiha Sasuke

I'm back and updating this story – along with working on the others. Hopefully I still have my faithful reviewers and readers out there. Also I'll be cutting back on the unnecessary Japanese terms a bit in my stories now. Thank you and please remember to review afterwards for whichever pairing you'd like to see coming soon or if it's about comments and all that. The next pairing after this, I believe would be either Kiba, Yashamaru, or one of the two Jounin we always see in the series around Konoha.

**Disclaimer:** I suppose since these are required, I must say, "I do not own anything of this fic but the idea!"

Chapter Six:

"Selfish Desires"

"The child's to come really soon – only one more month!" chattered a gleeful kunoichi, giving her bloated stomach a kind and soothing rub. A number of other women surrounding her smiled and congratulated the jubilant wife in advance. Fall had just begun and the leaves of autumn fell in just the right places on the pathways where people walked.

A particularly aged civilian of Konohagakure sighed dreamily, "Finally it seems the Uchiha clan shall be revived, thank goodness." Then the ladies started to speak and gossip amongst themselves again while the cool breezes passing by ruffled their hair. From the shadows hidden by great trees, one particular female leaned against a defined trunk.

She glanced down at the bearer of a prodigy's child, and her eyes darkened just for a few seconds before they closed away from the world and its cruel sights. With a sigh she brought up a hand to her head and grasped tightly at the luscious hair within its reach. How long had she been fighting denial again – for the exact amount of the hours, days and months had been lost. Her set of unoccupied fingers caressed the ANBU mask representing the kitsune, which was attached to her left on a belt.

These days at rare moments it would be of her upmost desire, for the world to just plummet straight into a sort of empty blackness where time had long ceased to exist and all would stay still. That way she wouldn't have to keep feeling that bitter stab-like feeling when she'd see him – or them together. Was it rightful that it was the other who'd won him over, instead of her who deserved him most? No, it wouldn't be right to talk of him that way, like a sort of prize.

"And I'm sure he'd despise it," whispered the lone woman; her hand losing its grip on her lovely locks and going down sluggishly to rest at a position right above her heart. This hot and surging feeling that always overtook her whenever she'd think of that one particular man – oh how she wished it would just disappear. Why was it that she had to undergo the torture of having once had her greatest treasure, only to lose it shortly afterwards?

Her confused eyes glazed with tears threatening to fall regardless of her consent, and she hastily blinked them away before steadying both arms at her side and breathing in a huge amount of air. In a quick blur she'd landed successfully on the ground from the high level with precision, and exhaled thoroughly. Turning once more to snatch a final view of the joyous figures, she left for a walk intended to relieve some stress.

Colors of green, orange, red and yellow greeted her visual senses as she strolled unaware down a random path. It truly was a beautiful season with the mix of the soft shades and great birds flying up above, migrating to a warmer area. Squirrels would click their tongues and jump around hunting for nuts worthy of the storage they were compiling for the coming winter.

Paper-like substances seemingly shot down from the sky and landed ahead of her feet, where they crunched in a delightful way when she stepped over them. It became a little game to her where she'd raise her head to stare at the trees while still moving forward, and as soon as a leaf broke away to descend upon the ground, her eyes would follow its curved.

The silent entertainment had ceased to continue however, for several loud clashes of metal against metal vibrated throughout the deep forest. Traveling just a few steps farther, the woman found herself to be viewing a sparring match between two well-known Jounin of Konoha. Medium-sized craters here and there decorated the battle spot, clearly stating that the pair were not fighting at their best, but only out for a small exercise.

"Odama Rasengan!" bellowed the blond shinobi, before driving a great ball of azure and white into the form of his opponent, who for some reason had been unable to foresee and dodge the assault. His onyx hair disheveled and ruby orbs shut, the man who'd been hit flew a long distance back until being forced to stop by the bark of a massive tree. The single audience's mouth opened just enough so she could something, but quickly slipped back into place.

Being victorious and happy to announce it, the winner snickered happily before making way to his fallen companion and extending a hand. Stubborn and independent as he was, the grown Uchiha scoffed, and ignoring the offered help, raised himself up. A stray wind picked up and made its way to the men, its meaning just a faint whisper. Naruto whose back at the moment was turned to anyone but his best friend, painted on his face a little smirk before inclining his head towards the trees ever so slightly.

Taking it as a sign that someone was here desiring a private conversation, he said loudly, "I'm starving, so I should go make my way to Ichiraku's and celebrate my obviously expected win." The excuse seemed impossible to be honest and definitely wasn't modest, but the houser of Kyuubi pulled it off like no other living soul could. His companion glared at him but the light-haired male winked, before disappearing in a flash.

Then averting his eyes to stare ahead, he saw a feminine figure step away from the shadows secured by the nature and face him. A pair of dark orbs met another akin to it, despite being a single shade lighter. A moment of silence passed by without a single word spoken, and the wave of uneasiness seemed as though to stay.

Slowly but softly, the woman murmured, "Sasuke."

Her fingers twirled and mingled with the grass underneath, whether it was out of nervousness or habit, while her sight was concentrated on the flowing river and occasionally shifting over to the man leaning against a tree. It felt wonderful and frightening at the same time to be so close to him – although she knew this bliss would not last forever.

"Well then," said the Uchiha in a rather impatient tone. "is there something you'd like to speak to me about instead of just sitting around?" His frigid tone cut through her like butter, but she smiled when admitting that it was something that she'd actually missed. But what he spoke of was true, and they couldn't just stay in silence like this.

"I...I wanted to congratulate you on the child," she said, which was quite painful for her own esteem and emotions. And I just – just thought that you might not mind listening to nature like this with me just as we did before, on that mission." Sasuke didn't respond, and she feared if her reply had been something pathetic or badly worded. A new and much warmer feeling filled her body, however, when a soft rustling reached hfer ears and when she turned to face the onyx-haired Jounin, found him sitting with one leg up to rest his right arm on.

He spoke cryptically and in a more amiable manner, "I see." Smiling and facing back to the river and sky, she relaxed for what must have been the first in a long time. "I find it a little odd that an ANBU like yourself would want to have a quiet time with a Jounin though."

"Sasuke, do you remember," she said with courage, and continued boldly, "what exactly happened in our last mission?" On this day the truth had to be told directly from the only source that would count. She didn't want to allow her emotional pain and suffering to continue any longer. It was today that her heart would be crushed completely, or fly upon the next set of stairs of hope.

Staring straight ahead of him as if to clear things out here and there, Sasuke answered, "I can't be sure, since a lot of things from back then are still hazy to me. I just remember sitting to stare at the sky with you, and we were talking. Then at the final battle I was saved," A slight smile was painted across his face, and he turned to her as if she'd know what he was talking about. "She nearly died for me – Sakura."

The peaceful grin once upon her face slowly dissolved into a horrified curve, absolutely opposing what her emotions were before. A sort of panic took over her eyes which grew even darker in a sort of panic and reflected a severe distort somewhere in her head. Sasuke's eyes widened and he placed a calming hand on her shoulder, though it was not.

He seemed worried, and asked, "Are you alright? You look traumatized. I'll take you to Sakura, and she'll help you with what's wrong." Quickly shoving away the hand larger than her own, she shot up from her once relaxed position and shot a sorry look to the confused leaf-nin.

She apologized, "I – I'm so sorry, but I just feel...I'm going to go get some fresh air." As bizarre as that statement had sounded seeing as how they were surrounded by enough of nature, the nearly hysterical woman sprinted as far as she could get from him and the village affectionately called her home. The crunching of tender leaves no longer were to her amusement and she could barely hear them now.

Stopping only when the kunoichi was positive she was at an area inaccessible to others, did she break down and collapse, to weep. It didn't matter that when she returned, everyone would see her covered in specks of dirt and twigs – nor did it concern her of what they could say in response to her messy image. He hadn't remembered – he'd mistaken his savior for another...

Again she placed a hand over her beating heart, and felt as though it would rip out of its prison of bones. As the weeks passed by, she definitely had been feeling weaker than usual, and it wasn't just a sickness that would disperse after rest. Smiling ironically, she thought of all the pain that had disturbed her mentally and physically all this time. The source of it all being a shinobi who didn't care for her and married the wrong girl.

The flower of her own life, she'd gifted to Sasuke before he would die, thus extracting five decades of her own and allowing him to survive. It was a forbidden technique that only her clan could ever perform, as it was impossible to do without a pure heart. Sighing pitifully she slowly pulled herself up to a stand and leaned against a tree.

"_You're a real idiot – stop the damn exchange and run," he rebelled._

_She whispered gently, "No – I love you." With the hand not occupied with the crystallized bloom, she grasped his own and after a few seconds, he squeezed hers in a grip that proved words to be unnecessary. _

"Nothing matters anymore," she told herself weakly. "I did it so he could live on, happily with a wife and family of his own." Honestly, she'd been quite depressed after the mission when Sakura and Sasuke started dating, but held it all out until it became too much – whereas she still locked her pain inside where no one else would even sense it. The tears she had cried at their wedding, were not of joy but pain as she watched them kiss, and finally agree to linking their lives for eternity.

"Uchiha Kagome," she scoffed, stealing glances from the darkening sky. "No, I suppose Sakura really does beats me on that one." Pouting and staring up at the moon, she was reminded of Sasuke's pale and flawless skin. "But I don't think I'll ever forget him," she sighed dreamily. For now the he would be her lover only in fantasized dreams, until she died and met him in the next life. Nothing would get in between that promise.


	7. The Morning After: Deidara

I just got this idea from listening to Kikyou's midi themes and Be My Last by Utada Hikaru. I still need to finish the chapter that was to come before this one, which is about halfway done and longer. I advise you guys to check my profile because I state how I'm doing on the stories and also important stuff. I warn you this is short, as it was just a thought I needed to get down. Although a lot of fast-paced fics could seem to go by longer since I prefer to have details and let me tell you: that takes concentration and a long while to get down the way you want it. I'll have to edit this later, but I really wanted to post it up first. Tell me if you see any big errors. Pretty please review and motivate to finish next chapter which is Obito?

Chapter Seven:

"The Morning After"

Blinding rays of the glorified sun made way through her blindfolds, and awoke the woman who squinted inappreciatively at them. A pleasurable sigh emitted from Kagome's lips while she stretched her legs by extending them. She grinded between her fingers a small allotment of the large, feathery blanket's portion concealing her nude image. The reason unbeknownst to her, she refused to turn from lying on the side of her body to face the bed's other half. A creature in the form of fear and anxiety combined paraded in her mind, and the woman was afraid to confront it.

Inhaling deeply, she physically maneuvered herself and once finished exhaled with relief. Her nimble fingers approached and landed gently on an area of the bare muscular back, not veiled by the owner's golden locks. She absentmindedly guided them in a circular motion by the tips of her nails, and a reaction in the form of a slight stir shook off of the male. Smiling cattishly to herself, the kunoichi persistently continued her actions until a bigger hand entrapped hers.

"Fine, I'll stop," the woman muttered disappointedly. "And don't hold me for too long, or you might devour me." Kagome smiled amusedly as the grip on her was released. What she had just said could've been interpreted as a sort of suggestion to most people. The few others who did know what was meant would understand clearly, for knowing of the mouths on each of the man's palms. She snuggled her head deep into the mass of blond, and breathed in the alluring scent provided. "I thought you were going to leave."

Having heard her faint whisper, Deidara scoffed, "Would you have let me?" A soft feminine chuckle rang in his ears, and he felt a lissome hand place itself upon his shoulder. The woman's touch was actually quite soothing, and at times, he wondered if it was what kept drawing him back to her. Her blessed fingers felt like silk whenever they made contact with his skin, and he cursed her for having such an effect on him. It was one of the reasons very small in numbers, as to why she had not died by his wrath as of yet.

It would've been quite the humiliation actually, if the other members of his organization were to discover where he disappeared to every once a week or so. There was no wrong in quenching the thirst of his more intimate desires, but returning repeatedly to the same woman must've made her something greater than just a bed warmer. Especially when she was an ANBU originating from the very village he had cut off all ties to. Sad as it was to admit, he was like a moth attracted to her enticing flames, and it mentally burned him.

The said kunoichi murmured, "How much longer do you think this will go on for?" He didn't reply, although thoughts occurred in his mind. She was a sensible female with a strong will, but accepted the fact that nothing lasted for an eternity; another trait he admired. Their scandalous affairs posed a threat to equal sides, as one could easily turn on the other – granted that the victim had been wholly trusting. He'd been a tad bit suspicious in the beginning and wouldn't have blamed her for feeling the same way, but after a while the negative doubtfulness within had subsided.

"It will end when it does, hmph," the former prodigy of Iwagakure finally remarked tersely, his human eye closing as he felt the covers right below his waist shift. There had been many times where he would envision her impending death, courtesy to his beautiful creations and explosions, but the scenarios would be unconsciously knocked back into the corners of his mind. The sinister idea of ridding her once her usefulness had expired pleased him, but also casted a heavy weight upon his merciless heart. He wouldn't admit to holding any intense affections for her, but just a tiny amount of fondness. After all, would you not grow attached to someone who you've slept with more than a few times?

The frail hand that'd been resting on his tanned skin traveled down and he felt a lithe arm wrap around his exposed side, as the dark-haired ANBU brought herself closer. Teasing his sensitive nose was the smell of her existence; intoxicating and addicting.

"Deidara...what are we?" she said with a shaky intake of breath. "Do I mean of any importance to you?" The serene moment of peace was shattered, and the blond lazily opened his eyelid to transfix his gaze on the vase of flowers in the room. Kagome didn't budge and it would seem she wasn't going to detach herself anytime soon without a proper answer. He wouldn't be able to get out of this predicament by ignoring her curiosity like he usually did.

He explained simply, "I am a man, and you are a woman, yeah." Having skipped her second question, he wondered if she had noticed – though he hoped not. Secretly inquiring about it himself, Deidara grew confused in search of the correct thing to say. In reality he strongly believed they were but two souls supposed to be killing and tearing at each other, but instead having found solace in embracing one another, did so. His nose wrinkled at the possibility of her words implying love. The kunoichi must have been embittered, for she extracted herself from him to sever all physical ties and twisted her body to face a window instead.

Taking the situation as a cue to depart, Deidara arose from the bed to dress up in his normal shinobi clothes and cloak, which had been discarded to the floor. Then he fixed his loose hair into the usual style and tied on his hitai-ate. Putting on the signature bamboo hat that all Akatsuki members wore, he proceeded to soundlessly leave the room, fully clothed. Whilst strolling down the valley that would allow him to exit the Land of Earth, the blond raised a hand to his view. He flipped it over to examine his palm, and the mouth – now having accomplished its task – spat out a destructive blob of clay. He smirked at its bad timing, before deciding that his source of entertainment would remain alive for one last visit.

Back in the private room of her home, stood a contemplating woman now dressed in an achromatic robe, gazing at the world outside from her transparent view of glass. She snatched the pillow she had used to sleep on, and hugged it tightly, sighing, "I've gotten too corrupted for my own good." Placed on the area of the bed where her bag of fluff had been veiling, lay a few double-edged kunai. Kagome had failed to kill him again, though she'd long since realized the day to do so would arrive. Her mind lingered back to what had transpired as of last night. "But he really...knows how to use his tongue," the woman whispered meekly, flushing feverishly in embarrassment.


	8. From My Silver Platter: Uchiha Obito

I present to you awesome readers and reviewers the eight chapter to this collection – featuring Uchiha Obito. Thank you so much for all the reviews and you guys really are the one who inspire me to continue writing. Hana is Kiba's real sister in the series by the way, but I'll have altered her cannon age by adding on about five years to fit this story in a sensible way. I may be doing Sasori for the next chapter, so be on the lookout, and review please!

**Disclaimer:** I suppose since these are required, I must say, "I do not own anything of this fic but the idea!"

Chapter Eight:

"From My Silver Platter"

"Why do you have to be such a crybaby all the time," sneered an indifferent boy, holding a whining puppy tightly between hands to prevent escape. Golden fur bristling in irritation, the four-legged animal attempted snipping at the rough cage of skin that entrapped it, to no avail. In response to the dog's rebellious actions, the taunting kid roughly rapped its moist nose, eliciting a pitiful whimper.

The bawling girl in front of them cried, "Stop hurting the poor guy, you senseless jerk!" Liquid dripped like precious diamond drops from her face, and the boy could do naught but laugh in his own enjoyment. Angry at the cruel male, and even more so at herself for allowing him to torture a faithful pet belonging to her friend, Kagome rushed in an reckless fashion to try and knock him down.

She succeeded in freeing the dog, who yipped and jumped into her welcoming arms. The kid had only been shoved to the side out of surprise from her meager burst of strength however, and was now standing erect, growling, "Why you–" In her own dilemma of fear, Kagome had shut her view of the world and started taking tentative steps back, her grip on the auriferous bundle never failing. A smooth thud and amused barks alerted her ears, and she bravely cracked open one eye to see what happened.

The pest who'd been badgering her now stood frozen in place with fear glazing his expression. When the young Higurashi analyzed the situation further, she found a kunai planted deeply in the short grass before his immobile feet, twinkling in the sun's rays. A teenage boy leaped from the bushes to her right and out onto the clearing.

"Leave, and don't think about ever bothering her again," the unknown savior threatened coldly, motioning to the set of shuriken readied within his fingers. The kid who had been overly confident and boastful earlier, now seemed cowardly as he regarded the ninja stars warily and hesitantly scampered away. Kagome giggled at the sight of her former tormentor retreating at a rapid pace, as she gently set the puppy in her arms to the ground.

The girl wiped away her wet tears with the back of her fists and turned around to bow properly before her hero, exclaiming, "Thank you so much for rescuing us!" She raised herself back up and beamed at the blushing boy pocketing his silver weapons, as her companion yapped appreciatively in its own canine language.

A pink tint corrupting his slightly tanned features, Obito brought up and placed a hand behind his spiky black hair, grinning as he replied elatedly, "No problem on my part." It was quite obvious how he adored the fawning he was receiving from the younger citizen of Konoha. A sleek brow went up in marvel after wondering what he had next. "What were you doing out here with that idiot anyways? Shouldn't you be at home getting ready for supper with your family?" he questioned curiously.

Lips curling sheepishly, the ebony-haired girl tilted her head towards the bouncing mammal at her side and responded, "I was playing with and taking Tsuyoi out for a walk, but he belongs to a good friend of mine named Inuzuka Hana. It was about to get dark soon like you said, so I was going over to drop him off, but yeah," She closed her eyes and nodded thoughtfully, leaving the rest of the information for Obito to digest. A pleasant shade of crimson invaded the defeated sky as it gained control of the clouds and forced them to disperse. "Mama's going to lecture me for being out so long, but I can't even care for a fish – much less a dog – by myself, so I'll just have to be hasty–"

"Then allow me to be your escort," proposed the frivolous male with an assuring simper. He continued, "I'm just a Genin and definitely not the best one out there, but I'll protect you." Kagome stared confusedly at the winking boy, a wide smile spreading across her soft exterior. She then bobbed her head; charcoal locks swaying vertically with the wind, and inserted the tip of two fingers inside her mouth to blow sharply and notify a keen set of pointed ears. She beckoned for the boy to follow and turned sharply on her feet to sprint away, a furry animal at her heels.

"Looks like I'm the winner," the youthful girl teased, sticking a tongue out merrily at her supposed bodyguard who was on his knees, panting. Tsuyoi's thin black lips curved upwards as though the short race had been entertaining, while he was once again scooped up into genial arms. Kagome twisted herself to knock on a door in a rhythmic beat. Not long after did the echoing of prompt steps ring, and eventually the entry swung open to reveal a brunette female; her hair gathered in a single ponytail.

"Didn't think you'd come until tomorrow!" she exclaimed, and then averted her attention to politely acknowledge the other company before accepting Tsuyoi into the house. A small chatter rose amongst the two girls, lasting for about five minutes until they bid each other a fare evening. With the dog now returned to its appropriate home and the little mission able to be classified as complete, the duo traipsed down the path from whence they came.

Having regained his breath and composure, Obito murmured, "You didn't even tell me when to start running." His arms were folded firmly and the orange goggles atop his head shook flimsily due to the pressure of his strides going up and down. Perhaps he was just being stubborn as usual, and in denial that a girl had conquered him so effortlessly. "How could you? I mean, you do seem younger than me, and just a single year can make all the difference in terms of training." he mumbled, having meant that to himself.

The future kunoichi at his side laughed, "You really don't like to lose, huh? As for the questions you were pondering on – I'm nearly twelve-years old and naturally skilled in the art of agility, thanks to the Higurashi blood in me." Looking over she saw the bewildered boy form his lips into the shape of a small hole. His sulky mood had been left behind to be replaced by another, representing interest and astonishment.

He pried further, "The prestigious clan renowned for its quick-footed, ingenious medics?" The boy received a modest nod in return, and gawked at his acquaintance. Impressive amounts of talent in the areas concerning speed and healing, made up for her clan's lack of physical strength. Their abilities had been of a very precious asset in the previous wars; hastily rescuing comrades dying out on the battle field and salvaging them from the brink of death.

They stopped in front of a mansion and Kagome announced, "Ah, well, this is my home!" Dwelling on the revered clan's history had stealthily absorbed much of his time, and the Uchiha's inky orbs scanned over the humble abode that very much resembled his own. The girl tapped his shoulder gently, causing him to face her, and she asked jovially, "Before we say goodbye, can I have your name?" Realizing her forgotten manners she added swiftly, "You already know the surname, but my first is Kagome."

"Uchiha Obito," replied the young shinobi proudly.

"Wow, that's amazing," the Higurashi asserted happily. "Mama told me about your clan's Kekkai Genkai and its unique traits!" Palms clasped together and eyes curved to resemble the shapes of rainbows, she expressed her kind adoration. Obito concocted a solid grin and went along with her comments, because he didn't have the heart to confess his inaccessibility to the Sharingan. As if she'd sensed his displeasure, Kagome assured him genially, "You'll be a great shinobi someday, Obito-kun." The jubilant girl ran to her doorstep and waved to him before entering the beautiful residence.

He was frozen to his spot, though seconds later the boy started heading to his own place. His new friend's words repeated in his mind, and he couldn't help but to convert the excitement into energy as he took off fully blown, dashing. He saw the blurry yet definite image of Kakashi from the corners of his eyes passing by, but did not stop to trigger an argument like usual. The silver-haired Chuunin, who had been aware and prepared, was quite shocked at the extraordinary revelation.

----------

The next day under the heavy achromatic clouds traveling lazily, Obito was out on the training grounds sparring with his teammate. Rash as his style of fighting was, he was easily overcome by the deceased White Fang's stoical son, who currently had the bottom of his ninja sandal upon the vanquished boy's back. Although his face was pressed into the earth and he certainly didn't have eyeballs on the back of his head, the Uchiha just knew of the smirk adorning Kakashi's masked face.

"If you're going to challenge me, at least elevate yourself to my level," the fellow Chuunin remarked before removing his foot, and allowing the unsuccessful competitor to rise. He did so slowly, and glared at Kakashi through his orange goggles, arms crossed. "The results are always going to be the same, loser." His visible eyes lingered on a healthy gathering of viridian at the side for quite a while, before disappearing with his body altogether in a flash.

"Teme," the Uchiha growled bitterly. A ruffling in the bushes caught his wary attention, and he saw a female Higurashi covered in tiny greens arise lethargically. The girl grinned sheepishly in regards to the awkward atmosphere, and her hands twiddled nervously around the oaken basket she held carefully. Immensely embarrassed for the scenes of his demise she had just witnessed, he muttered quietly, "Ah, Kagome-chan..."

Raising a lone index finger in order to shush him, she voiced reassuringly, "Obito-kun, I made lunch for you, as a token of my appreciation for yesterday!" Not giving him a slight chance to protest at all, she made her way to the boy and plopped down; proceeding to empty her wooden bearer of its delicious burdens. "But I'm not that experienced at cooking yet, so Mama helped me a lot," the girl confessed while grinning fondly. When having completed unpacking, there upon the terrain laid a variety of dishes eliciting a delightfully wonderful aroma.

Stomach grumbling eagerly, Obito's jaw dropped and he pointed at the delicacies, asking, "You did this...for me?" He received a nod and the boy plunged down to sit cross-legged next to the girl, his foul mood from earlier having vanished with little remnants left behind. "Itadakimasu!" Whilst digging in through a particularly attractive entree, premature tears started forming behind the boy's eyes. He put his plate down to push up his goggles and wipe them away in one quick flick. Kagome's deed touched his heart deeply, and he was grateful; the self-pity Kakashi had managed to cast upon him fading away into a nothingness like nightmares did.

----------

"You know, I have to tell you something important," Kagome mumbled shyly, a deep scarlet coloring her pure complexion. Two young civilians of Konoha could be seen relaxing on the hills close by to their home village, and reflecting upon whatever came to their minds. Obito presented his full attention, and his usually outgoing friend hesitated under the concentrated gaze. Unsure of how to explain herself properly, the girl stuttered, "I-I want...to, with you...be w-wed."

The Uchiha stared at her, puzzled, and she turned her head away in spiking shame. Humiliation poked at her from every angle, and now that she thought about it – the girl wondered what had went through that unpredictable mind of hers. Just one thing was for certain: ever since she'd met the dark-haired boy, her constant thoughts about him wouldn't cease. It was like her heart had been tainted by a vicious plague, and it affected her daily life drastically. Then again, who was she to say something so absurd, to a developing teen who'd have no interest in her and most likely already had a lady friend? The fragile, young heart pumping blood through her veins felt pained, as though it were being squeezed to death.

"So you wanna be mine, huh?" a low voice cornered her, and she tilted her head to view its owner, who was grinning like a fox pulling its latest prank. Fists curled tentatively and her lower lips trembling, the said girl inclined her head to answer yes. Obito winked and gave her a single thumbs-up, remarking, "You can be my Mrs. Uchiha if you promise to cook for me, care for me, and stay pretty for me at all times."

Kagome's eyes widened momentarily at his subtle words, the gentle wind toying with her hair. She then beamed and extended a pinky towards him, speaking, "I'll learn how to make the best foods, become a skilled kunoichi to help, always love you no matter what, and grow up to be an attractive woman. Just so as long as you swear to be good-looking man and love me unconditionally – oh and, I want at least two kids."

"Deal." A more callous finger was twisted around her own, and the youngsters laughed together.

----------

"It's been nearly thirteen years, hasn't it?" a woman clothed in a simple black kimono designed with white flowers whispered softly, her hand caressing a spot on the memorial stone, where a specific individual's name was engraved. She was crouched down before it, and her other inactive arm held an admirable bouquet purchased from the Yamanaka flower shop. Unwilling to depart from her traditional daily visit so soon, but not having a choice due to a mission, she begrudgingly set the wrapped assortment down before rising slowly. Kagome took a step back to admire the sight once more before twisting precisely on her feet and walking away.

She happened to come across a man with spiky silver hair, and as they passed, he said casually, "You should hurry before your team decides to leave, without their prized medic-nin." The woman spoken to halted in her tracks, and a positive facial expression enhanced her gracefully beautiful features.

Kagome murmured softly, "He was always running late – I'm guessing it just sorta came onto me after all these years." She then disappeared in a puff of hazy smoke, and left her deceased lover's friend to pay his tribute.

"I can't agree with you more," said Kakashi.

The woman materialized into her personal bedroom and began changing into her shinobi clothes, all the while pondering over the past. After having tied her silky tresses into a convenient ponytail and equipping on her ANBU mask, her hidden eyes wandered to a framed picture on the sill of her window.

Going over to briefly brush her fingers across the photo protected by glass, her spirit brightened. It had been over a decade ago when she'd graduated from the infamous ninja academy. In one hand, the younger and jubilant Kagome held onto the navy fabric attached to her newly gained hitai-ate. The other was holding hands with a tanned boy kissing her cheek; her disapproving father standing out from the crowd in the background with a look of scorn. Her mother was holding back the enraged and protective male with a simper. Chuckling faintly, she gripped the border of her treasured memory and flipped it face-down. "You never really did keep the end of our bargain, Obito-kun."


	9. Everlasting: Akasuna no Sasori

**Revised and Edited on September 14th, 2011**. This chapter is LONG AS HELL. I'm pretty happy I was able to write it despite being gone from the world of fanfiction/writing for so long. Feedbacks are appreciated. This chapter features none other than Akasuna no Sasori! **Read this!**: I found an uh-mazingg artwork of Sasori in his "Suna Jounin" uniform on Deviant Art. The artist who made it is ireal70, and you guys should really check out his work. Everything he draws and colors is so fantastic!

**Disclaimer: **I suppose since these are required, I must say, "I do not own anything of this fic but the idea!"

Chapter Nine:

"Everlasting"

It was raining the night his parents left home, their Sand village, in order to head off for war. The weather itself that evening had been anything but normal, seeing as how their location was right in the midst of the desert. At any time it was extremely rare for Sunagakure to experience even small showers. Little Sasori had been unable to tell whether the sign was a good one, or a bad omen.

Standing in the open doorway next to his grandmother, Chiyo, his eyes were locked onto the retreating forms of his parents. Their backs appeared so large and bold to him, the confidence clearly visible through the beige cloaks shielding them from the unkind precipitation. Before leaving, his mother had planted a warm kiss on the top of his head, while giving him a tighter-than-usual embrace. His father, being the manly man that he was, chose to show his affections in a more gender-appropriate way.

"We'll be back, son," he had told Sasori, the sorrow in his matured eyes incomprehensible to the child. The ninja had then placed his callous hand on the boy's shoulder and given him a reassuring squeeze. "Be the big man while I'm gone. Don't stay up too late, and take care of Granny Chiyo."

Naïve and young, Sasori had smiled at both his parents and obediently answered, "I will!" Then he had rushed forth and enveloped them both in a single half-hug, his short arms incapable of reaching around two fully grown adults, his fingers latched onto the fronts of their clothing. "Come back soon Okaa-san, Otou-san."

Bright, childlike eyes never left the backs of those whom had bestowed living flare upon them. Sasori, unaware of the actual scenario behind the event, simply thought nothing of it except that his parents were just going away on another typical mission. They were sure to return after several days, or at the most, a few weeks. He was proud to see them off whenever they were assigned a new job by the Kazekage, because it bolstered him knowing his guardians were excellent and formidable shinobi. They were the combined example of what he wished to grow up into; his role models. As the images of his parents faded away into the obscurity, Sasori gave one last exuberant wave of goodbye.

It wasn't until he felt a slight vibration to his left that the child sensed something was wrong. He directed his curious attention to his grandmother who was holding his hand, weeping silently while staring out into the pitch black night.

She was… crying?

Sasori, assuming he knew the answer as to why she was lamenting, patted his grandmother's arm in the purpose of providing meek comfort. "I'm still here Obaa-sama, you won't be lonely." He gave her an uplifting grin. "They'll be back soon, so don't cry!"

Withholding herself from producing any more tears, the aged kunoichi turned to her grandson and offered him a weak, half-hearted smile. "You're right, Sasori." She knelt down and encircled the child with her arms, resting her chin on his tiny shoulder. All the while thinking, that to be so ignorant of the world, and so young, was an ephemeral bliss. The boy had no idea that his parents had just been sent to the front lines of a devastating war, one between the Leaf and the Sand. From the beginning their services were not supposed to have been needed, but were now necessary as the tide of the fighting had shifted too far into the enemy's favor. "You're absolutely right…"

From that evening hours turned to days, and days into weeks. Sasori had managed to keep up his cheerful and optimistic attitude, but after a month, had started harboring suspicions. Chiyo knew that doubt had begun to creep into his heart because as the sands of time passed he would ask more and more questions on the whereabouts and status of his beloved parents. He was becoming more restless each time. Always her answer was the same, or similar to the last, as the old woman was forced to be dishonest and feed him lies through her teeth in order to protect his purity. It was the least she could do.

"Of course, Sasori, they're doing just fine."

"There's no need for you to worry Sasori, I've heard that they are alive and well."

"Sasori, your parents… They were given another mission…"

"It will… be a little while _longer_… until they can come home, Sasori."

In the beginning, Sasori had replied to all her reassurances with complete trust and enthusiasm, along with a hearty grin. Yet as time flowed on his smile faltered a bit more, and his eyes lost their brilliance. The child seemed as though starved for comforting words, and even then when he was full of them, they had yet to suffice.

About six weeks into waiting he started slipping out of his own bed at night and sneaking into hers. He would succeed in awaking her with uneasiness on his face, as he explained how terrified he was of sleeping alone. That he kept seeing false (that was what he hoped) premonitions and petrifying dreams of his mother and father never returning, and instead being left to deal with a cruel fate. Then he would ask to be held, until he could fall back sleep.

Should her son and his wife not come back alive, the old woman was prepared for the impact of the news. Her biggest concerns revolved around her astute grandson, and his possible reactions to such unpleasant news. He loved his parents dearly, after all, and the boy was still so fragile, with much to learn and experience; easy to break.

He was not ready yet to face the concept of death. No less, losing those he held dear to it.

Chiyo shook her head to rid herself of such disheartening thoughts, and frowned while watching her grandson sleep. She grew crestfallen due to another realization. Only in slumber was his expression ever peaceful now. The child was changing… he was becoming more withdrawn. Before, in a time not long ago, his beatific smiles had been impressive and large in size, nearly stretching from ear to ear, and his eyes radiated happiness and blithe. These days he looked more depressed, and if there was ever a positive tweak of his lips, it was small and not wholly genuine. He had become reclusive and decided to isolate himself from the other children as well, suddenly having become more interested in learning the ninja arts.

Aware of the changes her grandson was going through, Chiyo could do naught but sit helpless and watch. When it came to true comfort and soothing she could offer practically nothing, as she herself were unfamiliar with said gestures. Growing up with the harsh teachings of the more ancient times of Sunagakure had forced her to be strong in the physical and mental sense, yet not prepared her for such emotional tasks.

With a gentle touch, she swept aside the front of his bangs. "I'm sorry, Sasori."

—

"N-No…" Chiyo gasped, trembling, eyes wide. She fell to her knees, sweat rolling down the sides of her face, as she tearfully digested the information she had just received from the apologetic ninja in front of her. "_Curse_ _you_… Konoha's White Fang…!"

After two months of pending, her fears had finally been confirmed.

—

Sasori stared at the roads of Suna from his window, his eyes heavy with yearning. A picturesque family of three had snagged his attention: a child his age standing between his parents, swinging from their arms. His mother at his right, and his father on the opposite side. They were all laughing merrily, and gave the distinct impression of being content by simply spending time together.

A sharp _pang _hit him.

The spying red-headed boy gathered his arms around his fragile form, feeling incredibly lonely. On his own he often tried making up for the absences of his parents, by hugging himself. Yet the act never managed to satisfy him, and the bottomless hole within his heart would stay just as deep—endless.

"Okaa-san… Otou-san…" he whispered, tightening his self-embrace.

It had been five months since he had last seen his mother and father.

Three months ago his grandmother had told him that they would "be back very soon_." _Unwilling to bare anymore disappointments, and hoping the veritable answer would eventually arrive faster without him asking, Sasori had stopped pestering her for the unreliable information of his parents. Though the main reason for his doing so, was that he was frightened. Scared of hearing more _explanations_, more _excuses_, and more _next time, Sasori_. Perhaps it had been more comfortable for his grandmother as well, seeing as how she didn't mention a word on the topic, either. He could tell she preferred not to talk at all about it.

In the back of his mind, he knew the truth.

Sasori may have been young, but he was far beyond stupid and ignorant. He would never admit to anyone else what he was already aware of, but in his heart he had realized long ago that his mother and father weren't going to return—ever. The detrimental reality pained him, and affected him far more than he let show. He was sinking into his own sorrow, drowning slowly yet surely, and no one could pull him out. His grandmother did not even seem to try, and at times he wondered if it was really because she _couldn't _or more that she _wouldn't_.

He let his arms fall back to his sides, and turned to the table in the middle of his room in a search for solace. Atop the wooden surface was a mass of tools, materials, and a long scroll full of various blueprints. Everything had been provided to him by his grandmother, upon her seeing he was becoming interested in the ninja arts at an unbelievably early age (and to her amusement, in the same style she and her son used, no less). She hoped the activity would occupy him and distract him from his worries; to act as something for him to pour his heart into.

He was in the process of learning how to make shinobi puppets and control them.

Sasori steadily made his way over to the table and picked up the extensive scroll, his insightful eyes analyzing it. An idea had some time ago entered his precocious mind, but it was only as of recent that he had started to consider it. He wondered if the actual _looks_ of the puppets could be altered, so as to make them resemble living people. The child concluded that it were likely doable.

Imagining the finished product in his head, the boy couldn't help but give in to a minute, rare smile.

—

Peculiarly it began to rain again, just like it had that one night five months ago. Sasori turned to his window, watching with dull interest as beads of water pelted the circular-shaped glass. The weather reminded him of the evening his parents had departed, only to never come back.

The boy dismissed the melancholy thoughts and returned to his industrious work session, reminding himself of the rewards that lay in wait should he strive onward with diligence. Sasori raised a wooden finger to the level of his eyes and examined it carefully. Having espied an imperfection, he grabbed the carving tool at his disposal and fixed it immediately. Then, after deeming the diminutive component worthy, he connected it to a bigger piece of shaped wood resembling an arm. The boy took hold of the artificial limb in both his tiny palms and lifted it above the table, assessing the weight and studying his progress from different angles.

"Sasori!" came the voice of his grandmother, sounding unusually chipper.

Caught by surprise, the child dropped the heavy mass of wood, his carless action causing a disturbing _thunk_ to resonate throughout the enclosed space. He stared at the doorway of his room, eyes wide.

He was never called for by his grandmother, unless it was time to eat, bathe, or foray out the house to buy groceries together. He had already partook in dinner three hours prior, and washed himself before that; it was much too late to attend the market. The day had also proceeded too far into midnight to consider the probability of guests.

—could it be?

Nearly tripping over his own clothing, Sasori scrambled to the door. The knob just barely leveled with his head, proving how short he was and how much more he had yet to grow.

"Come down Sasori, there's someone I want you to meet!"

The boy's breathing quickened, and an excited look painted itself over his apathetic features. He swung open the exit with crazed anticipation, not giving a care as it made a scathing sound upon its rough impact with the wall. Sprinting out of the room, he lifted up his black robe to be at length with his ankles, making sure it wouldn't have a chance to hinder him.

_Finally! They're finally home! _

He hadn't noticed even as a large grin tilted his lips upward. Sasori carefully yet swiftly made his way down the stairs, his little feet pounding against the surface.

_I'm so glad… I was so lonely!_

Countless thoughts ran through his head, dialogues he had been resolute on keeping locked for fear of having to confront his despair. But now it was okay, Sasori concluded. It had to be his parents that had come home, because who else was there that would possibly visit him and his grandmother—so late, nonetheless? He dashed around the kitchen and headed for the front of the house, momentarily blinded by the bright entrance lights that greeted him.

_Okaa-san, I missed your lullabies_… _Otou-san, I'm learning to make puppets now, just like you._ _There's so much I want to tell you both!_

Sasori ended up at the door, beaming wildly at the back of his grandmother while huffing and trying to regain his unbalanced breathing. With bated breath he rushed to look around her, ready to ambush his parents with a death-tight hug—

_Nani_…

—but… It wasn't them…?

The smile on his face died tragically, and was replaced by a deep scowl. Frustrated, the boy glowered at what stood before him, resentment oozing out of his daunting, red-tinted orbs.

_It_ was nothing of his expectations. It was shorter than him, and covered by a black cloak. His grandmother welcomed it in and took off the drenched shroud, before shutting the entrace to silence the obnoxious rain. A head full of raven hair and pale skin was revealed to him. Peering up at the boy were curious, daring brown eyes. It was a girl. A little girl around his age, or barely younger. She seemed intimidated by him, most likely because of his hateful gaze for which she didn't know the reason as to why she was receiving it. The unknown child took a wary step back towards his grandmother, who had just turned around from having hanged her cloak to dry. Chiyo appeared pleased by the child's presence, for she laid a calming hand on her shoulder and directed an amicable smile towards her grandson.

"Sasori, she'll be living with us. A new playmate for you. Her name is—"

The rest was lost as he sped back up to his room, slamming the door shut. His tears went unheard that night, the sounds overlapped by the rain's welcome patter.

—

Sasori hammered away, his eyes concentrated solely on his work. The puppet was ever so slowly nearing completion as he toiled with dedication rarely ever found in children his age. After the technical parts were finished, then it would be easy sailing as he just needed to add minor details to complete the appearance. He swept a small, fond hand over his present accomplishment, feeling a swell in his chest upon doing so.

A small_ creak _crept into his ears, and directed his eyes to the room's door. Brown orbs peeped at him, but after noticing he had spotted them disappeared at once.

Ignoring the intruder and unwilling to acknowledge them, Sasori returned to his crafting. At the same time, the interloper returned from behind the doorway's protection, watching him again.

"Go away, you're bothering me," the boy snapped, his annoyance obvious.

No offense was taken as instead the dark-haired child took his words as a sort of subtle invitation, and entered his room. She swept across the carpet to his working table, and planted her forearms on the surface, trying to hoist her little self up and tiptoeing to gain a full view. It had been but a few weeks since she had arrived in his home. Sasori had done his absolute best to avoid her the entire time since then. Unfortunately, that certain day, he had forgotten to lock his door.

"Why don't you play with me, Sasori?" she inquired of him outright. The child cocked her head to the side and blinked, awaiting an answer.

Refusing to spare her even a single glance, the redhead curtly replied, "Because I don't like you."

In return the girl's face scrunched up into an adorable frown, displeased with his nonsensical reasoning. But she did not give up, and chanced slinking closer to her target. She moved around the table to stand at his side.

Sasori twitched. "Go away," he reprised.

"No," was the girl's stubborn refusal. She latched onto his arm, bold. "You're always working! Let's play, Sasori! Let's _play_!"

After a moment of struggling, Sasori extricated his limb from her. "Leave me alone and go play with Chiyo obaa-sama."

"No! She's not home!"

"Then go do something else in the house."

"No, I'm lonely!" The tenacious little fool grasped his arm again, repeating like before, "I'm _lonely _Sasori, come on!"

_Lonely? _Sasori thought bitterly to himself. The tiny pest figured s_he _was lonely? Suddenly, the presence of the other child became an even greater nuisance, and the boy was incensed.

He pushed her in a violent manner, knocking her defenseless form onto the ground.

Attempting to register what had just happened, the girl blinked several times, before wet tears sprang to her eyes. Then, with an indignant scowl on her face she stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her with as much power as she could muster (which was not of a considerable, great amount).

Sasori glared at where he last saw her stand, before returning his dazed attention to the blueprints.

He dismissed the dull _clang_ of guilt in his heart.

—

After the incident between the two children, the girl had chosen to strictly avoid him. Whenever she caught a glance of him in the house through her peripheral vision, she would turn the other way. Even when she, Sasori, and Chiyo were to exit the house and travel together, she would ignore him completely and instead stand on the other side of the old woman while striking up animated conversations with only her. She had even made a childish (of course, no surprise to him there) request to Chiyo asking if she could eat dinner earlier than him, making an excuse of something along the lines of _I feel more comfortable eating by myself, Chiyo obaa-sama_. Which his grandmother had accepted as valid, to his unsaid disbelief. Why did _she _get special treatment? Which also brought in the question: _why _was she here in the first place?

Sasori never bothered to ask his grandmother these things however, as to him, they were beneath his interests.

Yet it was all very curious, because to a reason unbeknownst to him, he now stood just a few feet away from her with a playing ball in his possession. He truly _must _have been that lonely to have come to this degradation. Having taken a seat in the distance once he arrived, he'd watched her for about thirty minutes now, patiently spectating her and the silly games she took part in with her other friends. In spite of the fact that he detested waiting for anything with a passion, it was not so bad.

He noticed she was quite popular among the youngsters of Sunagakure, due to her outgoing and genial nature. Whenever a child who was considered an "outcast" to the others came by in low spirits she would always be the first to extend an unbiased hand, offering them an opportunity to join in on her fun. She judged no one, and tried to include everyone.

The girl—he had heard recently from a passing pair of gossiping mothers—was apparently a novelty in the village. Sasori at least now knew that wherever she had originated from, it _hadn't _been anywhere in Suna. That had raised the familiar question in his mind: _why was she here?_ He had overheard his parents talking long before on a subject he had had no idea of, and mention that Sandaime Kazekage rarely accepted immigrants as he preferred to keep the village "pure" to its natural inhabitants.

But other than that he knew nothing, except for the fact that despite being new the enigmatic girl already had so many enthusiastic companions.

So he had waited, patiently, for a reason he knew not until the sun began to descend and the other children were escorted home by their respective parents. A filthy twinge of jealousy nipped at him as he saw a brown-haired boy wave goodbye to the other kids and start walking home, his hand held secure within the one of his father. Then another left in a similar fashion, and another; boys and girls alike. The last was a dirty-blonde male, his hair ending at his shoulders.

"Bye-bye, Yashamaru-kun!" the girl he had come for yelled, motioning her short arm high in the air.

Then she had turned, ready to start the mini-journey home with a good-natured grin still plastered on her face, when she caught sight of him. She was taken by surprise (he could tell from her widened eyes, and the way her smile deteriorated in the matter of seconds), and soon arched a suspecting brow at him. For her it was abnormal to see Sasori outside of the house—his _room_ even—let alone at the park. But the girl decided to say nothing, and turned her gaze elsewhere while reassuming in her frivolous pretense to ignore him. With the practiced intention to walk past him without a word, she stepped to her right.

Unexpectedly and in sync, Sasori also moved to his left, blocking her invisible path.

In an awkward fashion, the girl sidestepped to her left.

He moved right.

The boy's shadow, reaching her face, allowed her to look at him despite the glowing setting sun behind him which would have blinded her otherwise. She scratched the back of her head, unsure of what to make of his inscrutable actions.

"…"

Then, Sasori threw the ball towards her, and it bounced once before settling in the girl's hands. Moving frantically in a way quite humorous, she had almost missed it, having been caught off-guard by his unpredictable move.

Lips pursed, she eyed the item with skepticism, before directing an unsure stare to the boy who had spurned her proposal to play only a month ago.

"…"

Then, her lips crooked up in a pretty smile, and she looked at Sasori in a kind way; the same way she did for the other children, her friends. The tentativeness in her simple, childish mind went forgotten and out the window. With gusto she bounced the ball right back to him.

He returned the gesture again.

So did she.

Soon, a pure-sounding laughter emerged from the both of them.

—

Kagome emerged from the bathroom, her hands fresh and clean from her having just washed them. She hated having to use the washroom late at night, because waking up in the middle of sleeping simply to get up and tend to her bladder was a minor albeit bothersome pain. (Though alas, so was attempting to hold the urine in while trying to fall back asleep.) Sometimes her trips were scary, as in the evenings the whole house always had its lights turned off.

This was why she noticed the brightness leaking out from Sasori's room.

Inquisitive as always, the young girl tiptoed over to his door, wondering if he was up late working on his puppets again. He was nearing completion on his second project, she had noticed. Through the months she had watched him assemble together the wooden bodies, serving as a mute spectator. He did not chase her out of his room anymore, having developed a tolerance to her, so long as she stayed inaudible and handed him the tools he asked for now and then.

Some days it was just too hot to go out and play; on those days she kept him company with her chin resting on the surface of his worktable—bored to death. If she were lucky, he would agree to a short-lived pastime (occurrences such as those were ridiculously rare) of whatever she came up with. Yet no matter how many times Kagome tried, she could never coax him into going outside with her to play with their peers. He seemed to think having fun was not productive of his valuable time. He was _the weirdest_ 'kid" (if he really was, even) she had ever met in her life. The boy dedicated most of his days obsessing over the tiniest details of his puppets.

—which Kagome thought looked creepy, by the way. But she said nothing, because the first time she had, Sasori had given her a heated glare and ignored her for the rest of the day.

Kagome, cautious not to make any noises, peeped through the generous space of the boy's open doorway. She watched in confusion as Sasori stood between two puppets, both complete (with heads of hair and traditional Suna wears equipped), and moved his fingers expertly. Limbs brought to life by chakra, the humanoid creations, rattling, gathered their stiff arms around the boy. It were as though they were embracing him. As for Sasori his eyes were closed, and he appeared… peaceful. And _happy_, for once.

Not sure as to what it was she was watching, the girl peeled her face away, and urged herself to walk back to her own designated bedroom. On the way to it her legs grew rigid, and she had to stop in order to dry her suddenly moist eyes with the sleeves of her nighttime shirt. She was, without even having realized before, _uncomfortable. _Kagome didn't understand why but she had started crying; had felt that the image she had witnessed, was just…

…too sad.

And why, she didn't understand. She was too young and ignorant. But most of all, she didn't want to have to accept the reality on the absence of her _own_ parents as well.

Until he grew older, Sasori continued that ritual every night, when he was convinced he had absolute privacy.

As for Kagome, even if she had to wake up at the later hours to use the toilet again, she never dared to go near his room.

—at least not during those sacred, specific hours.

—

"Sasori, aren't you hungry?" suggested a fourteen-year-old Kagome, rubbing her empty stomach. She walked beside her friend, a Chuunin of the Sand, whom had just returned from his three-day mission. He had accomplished his goals without any unnecessary troubles and rightfully earned a generous sum of currency for it. Now she was secretly looking forward to a meal he may have been willing to purchase for her; a mere _sixty-percent _of that happening.

"No, but I'm assuming you are," the young boy, himself fifteen, commented. "As always."

He glanced over to find hopeful doe eyes staring at him. He felt tempted to say _No_ just because he knew he would get an amusing reaction out of doing so.

But instead…

"All right"—a triumphant cheer came from his side, "—but you'll tell me where you've been squandering all your money. I know you had a sufficient enough amount for feeding yourself outside of the house before I left." He was feeling rather generous after the mission that went exceedingly well (though it was supposed to have been very difficult for him). Akasuna no Sasori would not mind spreading the joy for a single day. But he still wished to discover what careless things the girl next to him had done this time in order to result with an empty pocket.

An embarrassed blush came upon Kagome's face and she scratched at her tinted cheek. "Oh, well… I was at Yashamaru and Karura's, and we placed bets on a card game. I sort of ended up as the loser most often…"

"So you were gambling," he stated simply. Another thought was on his mind, though he didn't verbalize it: nowadays she was going over to that _boy's _house much too often.

"Well…"

"Chiyo obaa-sama wouldn't be happy to find out where the money she gives you goes."

Kagome's sheepish countenance twisted into shock. "You _wouldn't_!"

"I _am_ rather hungry now," Sasori replied, the corner of his mouth slightly upturned. He walked on ahead, towards the familiar direction of a food stand they often visited together.

"H-hold on, Sasori!" A pause, then the shuffling of feet. "You jerk!"

Sasori chuckled under his breath.

—

Another year had passed, granting Kagome one more year in age, as well as Sasori; respectively, fifteen and sixteen. Currently they resided in the latter's room, which was of the norm.

Appearing slightly disgusted and scared yet doing her best to hide it, Kagome lifted a brow. "What's _that_?" She pointed at Sasori's latest invention. It was far more intimidating than his other main puppets. _Was _this even a puppet? It seemed too big to even be able to be controlled. The 'masterpiece' resembled a thuggish-esque ninja, and had a _tail_ coming out of its back. The hairstyle its creator had chosen for it was quite absurd, too (in her opinion).

"It's _Hiruko, _my newest addition," Sasori answered almost defensively, put off by the accusive pitch of the young woman's voice.

"Why's it so huge? Won't that make you more noticeable and prone to danger?" Kagome asked, curious.

Sasori indulged in an inward sigh. "The _point_ of Hiruko is to act as my _defense_, while I am inside controlling my other puppets safely."

"Ohh, _I see_. That's pretty interesting." Then, a realization. "Wait… you're going to be INSIDE it?"

—

Then another year had passed.

The desert was calm, and so was the quiescent atmosphere of the Sand village. The night winds were cool and crisp, and felt wonderful on the skins of Suna's residents. Seeming so close to the earth tonight was its lovely friend the moon, enormous and filled out in its beauty. Its silvery light served to support the vision of two people sitting together atop the highest building in the vicinity.

Kagome flicked at an ant that had crawled too close to her for comfort. She then relaxed back into her original position, placing her arms around her legs which were folded to her chest. Seated next to her was Sasori, who had joined her tonight in the viewing of the night sky. His palms were planted securely behind him, holding his upper body up, while his legs were laid out straight in front of him. He gazed up, amazed by the moon's apparent proximity, and how mesmerizing it truly was.

Having bothered him so much about the "unbelievably pretty sight," Sasori had reluctantly agreed to Kagome's constant bugging of _come with me, let's go see it together! _In the position he was in now, taking in the elegant round beauty in front of him, he was quiet pleased with his eventual decision. The air was refreshing and brisk compared to the hot, humid temperatures that normally graced Suna in the daytime. The elevation was a pleasant new experience as well.

_And why can't we just see it from our windows and not from the top of the Kazekage's building?_

_I'm telling you, it's _different_! Don't be a grouch, Sasori_…_!_

Kagome leaned back, wanting to take up a position similar to his. Her hand accidentally landed on top of his—only for a split second. With a small _squeak _she retracted her limb in haste, and when Sasori shifted his lazy gaze he saw a pink tinge on her cheeks. She turned her complexion away from him, avoiding his analytical eyes out of awkwardness. He didn't understand why she was making a fuss out of something that required none. A touch was a touch, nothing more. Though he might not have known much, since the last time he had experienced any actual physical affections were before his parents left to war.

He knew the truth now… had known for a long while. It was too late for him to cry about it now the way he had when he was much younger. Sasori only felt hidden resentment towards Sandaime, for having dispatched his parents to a war that Suna had had a slim chance of winning from the start. The man was supposed to lead the people of his village, but he only succeeded in guiding them towards their deaths for his pride, and voracious lust of military power. Occasionally in his dreams, Sasori would have morbid fantasies played out before him: of him killing the Kazekage, and making the latter into a useable puppet of his own.

Yet that day, whether it came or not, would have to wait. First and foremost, he was still a stranger to the art of converting an actual human to a legitimate shinobi puppet. The appalling act was forbidden—a dark art. He also had more training to accomplish before he could reach the same caliber as the man he secretly loathed.

"Sasori," Kagome called to him, drawing his wandering attention. She knew she had it when he laid his carmine eyes on her again, waiting for her to speak. Judging by her facial expression, she was uncertain with what she had to say next. "Do you… Well, has Chiyo obaa-sama ever…"

"Hm?"

"What I mean is, do you know anything about where I… came from? Has Chiyo obaa-sama ever told you anything?"

"No, she hasn't," he answered tersely. Kagome should have known he hardly ever spoke to his grandmother, seeing as how she lived with them both—and had done so for the past many years.

"Oh, okay," the young woman said in a quiet voice. Kagome suddenly found her hands very interesting, and refused to face him just yet. "It's just, something I've been wondering for a while now, I guess. When I first came here—to Suna—I couldn't remember a single _thing_. I don't know if I… have any family members, or relatives out there, you know? Nothing. And I get this gut feeling—it's kind of strange, in an eerie way. I tried asking Chiyo obaa-sama about myself but she doesn't have a clue either, only that she was entrusted my care by Sandaime Kazekage-sama."

Sasori nodded, responding, "It makes sense; Suna rarely ever makes exceptions for those originating from outside of its walls. When it does, it's for a reason that will benefit the village and Kazekage-sama only." It was interesting indeed. If Sandaime himself had personally given his grandmother the task of looking after the girl's wellbeing, there had to have been a catch. A _benefit _for the Kazekage and his village.

"To be honest," Kagome murmured, wrapping her arms around herself, her eyes slanted downward, "I get a bad feeling whenever I think about it. So I try not to, but…" She turned to him with an uncharacteristically wan smile on her face, almost pleading him in silence.

He saw it, and understood. _I won't permit Sandaime getting his hands on you, as he did with my parents. _

That's what he had wanted to tell her, though he didn't.

—

Kagome traced a finger down the glass, following the subtle lines of his mother's mature figure in the photograph. She was studying the picture frames that had stood at the head of Sasori's bed for years. Periodically, every month or so, with a rag she would wipe away the dust that had started to accumulate on them. The girl was fascinated by the images of his parents.

"I wish I knew what mine looked like."

For a few seconds, Sasori stopped the manipulation of his chakra strings. His eyes lingered on the puppets before him: the ones he had christened "Mother" and "Father."

—

She was now seventeen, and he, an eighteen-year-old Jounin.

"Kagome, Kazekage-sama has informed me that a month from now, you will be required to leave the village with him," Chiyo apprised.

Upon hearing the news the docile young woman nodded, as if having expected to hear what she had eventually. She didn't question the aged kunoichi who had by now been her faithful guardian for years, although what she had told her with ease just now seemed all too suspicious. For Kagome to go somewhere unknown with a person she had never spoken to in her life, only acknowledged as the leader of the village she resided in—it was worrisome.

"When will she be returning?" Sasori queried in a calm manner, his dark-red orbs still focused on the pages of an open book. He purposely meant to ask the question based on the assumption that Kagome _would _be coming back.

"Soon, Sasori."

His suspicions confirmed, the young man's gaze narrowed unobtrusively. Chiyo's answer irked him; it reminded him of the excuses and false answers she had supplemented him with back when his parents had disappeared for good. _Soon, Sasori, very soon_. He had been able to distinguish the answer he sought in her nebulous response.

But he said nothing.

—

Her delicate shoulders rose and sank, her chest in pain, while one of her frail arms shielded her teary eyes away from him. When she spoke, her voice was cracking.

"I'm_—_I'm _scared_… Sasori."

The Sand ninja did not know what to say, nor what to do in response. Like his grandmother when it came to comforting someone, he was just a dud as much as her. He wished he knew, but he had no idea how to pacify the girl's wailing.

Hesitant at first, but deciding to come through, he laid one of his hands on top of hers. It was astonishingly soft.

With neither of them realizing it, their fingers soon entwined.

—

"Kazekage-sama has said that it is time… for the next Jinchuuriki."

"Already, is it?"

"Indeed. Our current one is on the borderline of death."

"Well, are the preparations all set?"

"They are. Out among the desert, a good distance away from Sunagakure."

"Was he able to pick whom?"

"He decided nearly a decade ago, when Suna had come across a child belonging to the practically extinct Higurashi clan." The man paused for a second, considering whether he should continue. He did. "When we realized our amazing fortuity, we eradicated her memories with precision, and brought her here to reside with us in safety until the designated time."

A pregnant pause took hold.

"That wouldn't happen to be that girl Kagome, would it? The one living with Chiyo-sama and her grandson?"

"Her becoming our Jinchuuriki was the _only_ reason her life was spared, as well as her successful entry into this village."

"That's… truly unfortunate. I've acquainted myself with the girl, she's very pleasant."

"She also has the mind and body capable of housing a monstrous amount of chakra within her. Namely, a bijuu."

"Hrm. Poor thing."

Sasori stilled, finding it hard to breathe while digesting the conversation with difficulty. His mind was reeling with the discovered information, and he couldn't believe he had merely stumbled upon it by accident. He had not meant to eavesdrop, just happened by when in truth he had been aiming to speak with Sandaime about his upcoming mission. The doors to the main discussion room of the Kazekage's building had been left wide open, and along with it, the conversing of the two tactless shinobi inside for anyone to pick up on.

They planned to make Kagome… a Jinchuuriki?

Suna would deprive her of her freedom and rights to live, by making her their new weapon? The village was not even her rightful providence—Sand ninja were the ones whom had whisked her away from her home, and destroyed the recollections of her life before Sunagakure. Now they wanted to use her body for their own means; she didn't have a damned clue what was going on.

Had she been born to reach this point in her life—to become a Jinchuuriki?

Having lived seventeen years, to reach a time in which she would experience only suffering and abhorrence for the rest?

Sasori had seen (from the distance) the current Jinchuuriki of the Sand multiple times: a woman hosting the demonic Ichibi. He had never spoken to her but seen the way the other villagers reacted to her harmless presence. She was a valuable asset to Suna's military force, but in lieu of being praised and admired as a hero, was rejected and despised out of fear. Now, according to the information he had attained, she lingered on the borderline of death and needed an appropriate replacement.

Kagome would become the next Jinchuuriki.

She would house the Ichibi inside her and become a tool for the village… and instead of being loved by everyone as she were, she would be detested; she would become a hated pariah.

_Sasori, let's play! _

_Please don't tell Chiyo obaa-sama! I'll polish your puppets for_ _you the next time you come back from a mission!_

_I found something really nice, I want to show you._

_Sasori!_

_I'm—I'm __scared_… Sasori.

Almost a decade's worth of Kagome's laughter filled his head. It morphed into the sound of her crying. Sasori's eyes narrowed.

She did not deserve such a fate.

Sandaime was doing it again, just like he had back then to the people who were closest to him. It had not been enough to take his parents away when he was young and assign them directly to their death. Now it was Kagome's turn to be driven off the edge, and when she fell she would meet a fate equal to death.

—no, it was _far_ worse than dying. She wouldn't be able to bare it; she couldn't become a weapon for the village. To be shot countless, foul glares, and be spoken of in such contemptuous ways despite the enormity of the pain she would be forced to accept as a heavy burden on her shoulders, for the sake of the ungrateful civilians. Her personality would shift under the pressure and cruelty; she would wilt, rot.

He could not allow that.

Lowering his dizzied head, Sasori covered the top half of it with his outstretched palm. The sounds from inside the discussion room were just a buzz in the background to him. He opened his unsteady eyes and stared at the tiles beneath him through his fingers, as though an answer would be granted for him from doing so.

"Will you look at _that_," commented one of the unnamed men, whistling. "Full moon tonight."

That was the last thing Sasori heard from the main room, before he left the building. There was no longer a need to speak with Sandaime anymore.

He had reached his conclusion—his choice of action.

—

"Hmm, Sasori?" Kagome asked groggily, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She was sitting upright on her mattress, yawning as she stared at the man standing beside her bed. She contemplated the darkness outside her window, which would have been pitch black if not for the kindred moonlight and its beams striking several areas. "What's going on? You never come into my room—and if you can't tell it's _really_ late_."_

Sasori smiled at her, and upon seeing the expression she was tempted to scoot back.

"And now you're… smiling at me. That's another thing you rarely do…"

"Quiet, or you'll awake Chiyo obaa-sama," he cautioned. The Jounin extended a helping hand towards her, his expression back to its normal nonchalance. "I want to take you somewhere."

Kagome's eyebrows both lifted up in surprise. She pinched herself hard, trying to make sure she wasn't dreaming. ("Ouch…") At the moment it sure seemed like she were trapped in some strange, bizarre illusion. Aside from intruding her bedroom at midnight, _smiling, _and wanting to actually _show _her something—when she was usually the one who did any showing and telling (heck, he never even bothered to flaunt his prized puppets in front of her her!)—she was just getting a weird vibe overall. Feeling an unpleasant sensation in her flesh from her self-inflicted pain, and not seeing any visible change in what was now obviously reality, she gulped.

"Sasori," she whispered. "Are you okay? Sick, maybe?"

Her concerns went ignored, and Sasori pulled her out of her bed.

"Hold on, let me get dressed first!" she exclaimed in a hushed tone.

"Just follow with what you're already wearing. No one else will see us."

"But—"

"Hurry up, or I'll leave you behind."

"Oh, all right. Fine!"

—

"Is there… a reason we're here?" Kagome questioned dubiously, watching the Jounin of Suna for any sort of reaction. They stood atop a familiar building—one they had stood upon numerous times. Nearly every once a month they had done so, to regard the full moon from their position, wanting to be as near as possible. The act had turned into a sort of bonding method for them; only missed on the nights Sasori was unable to be at home, like earlier that day. The raven-haired female wrapped her arms around her petite body, feeling chilly. "Don't you think it's a bit late for us to be doing this right now? You know, there's always next month—"

"Kagome."

"Y-yeah?" Kagome grew alarmed at the tone of Sasori's voice. Other than sounding somber as it always did, there was something more. Determination, along with danger, lurked behind it.

A heavy silence passed between them.

Resolute, Sasori continued, "I'm leaving Suna."

"…what?" Kagome blinked, incredulous, staring at the man she had grown up with. She needed to confirm whether what he just said was true or not. "You're going to _what_?"

Sasori answered her with a nod.

"You have to be joking," Kagome retorted, unbelieving. "Why would you ever—"

"Kagome, thank you."

"No, just hold _on_ a second—!"

Sasori forced the woman to be silent, as she was suddenly swept into a one-armed hug. "Thank you," he repeated again.

Then, in an unforeseen turn of events he lowered his head to hers, and dove in for a kiss—claiming her first. Kagome's eyes widened.

She quickly regained her senses, and shoved the shinobi away from her. "Sasori!" she scorned, her mind high up on a level beyond confusion as she blushed from either anger, shock, the kiss, or all three. "Are you seriously _sick_ or something? Out of nowhere you're acting like… like you're _not_ Sasori!" Her voice dropped in volume and fierceness as she continued, her pained chest making it too difficult for her to keep yelling.

"All this… about you leaving the village, and… and _kissing_ me? What's wrong with you…?"

Silence.

Kagome's uneven breathing was ragged and erratic while her shoulders rose and fell, tears glittering in the moonlight as they trailed down her face. "Y-you can't be… serious"—she choked back a sob, "—about leaving me… behind…!" Head hanging low, her hands curled into balls of fists, her nails digging into her skin. "H-how can you d-do this…?"

Carmine eyes took in the pitiful image, and Sasori moved forward to embrace her again. This time with both arms, and with a stronger hold.

"You'll stay with me," he assured.

Kagome's brows knitted together in uncertainty and fear of what he was implying; of taking her with him to an outside world she knew nothing of. A world not protected by the impenetrable walls of Suna. Was it okay for her to do so? Would it be all right for her to follow him and be branded a traitor of the village along with him? To stay alongside Sasori—as she had for so long already?

She had not expected what came next.

"I… love you." The words, having coming from Sasori's mouth, were unnaturally stiff and sounded almost _wrong_. But the meaning was there.

Kagome's head rose, and she peered into the man's eyes, searching for any trace of underlying deception. For what seemed like the longest time they were stuck in a trance, nothing else existing between them. At that moment, with the moonlight reflecting off her face, her black lashes wet with tears, and her eyes sparkling with a myriad of emotions, Kagome was beautiful. In those few seconds, to Sasori, she was a divine goddess—she was _art_ at its finest. He desired to keep that astounding image of beauty with him for the ages to come, to never wither away, ad infinitum.

—for eternity.

"…I love you, Sasori."

Under the gracious moon, they joined together in another kiss, this time both participants willing. Kagome tightened her grip on the front of Sasori's clothing as he held her, wanting him even closer than he already was, if it was even possible. She was no longer cold, as her escalating body heat and his combined were more than enough to satisfy her trivial need. Their tongues joined together in a private dance, allowing each person to explore the other. There was so much unsaid, yet expressed, in a simple act of endearment.

They broke apart, and Kagome fell forward into Sasori's chest, her head light and herself breathless. Rogue butterflies invaded her stomach, causing her to feel as though she could float off the face of the planet at any second. Her cheeks were thoroughly pink, and her modest self somewhat embarrassed for what she had just done.

—but deep within her heart, there was _love_ present.

"I want to be with you forever," she breathed, eyes closed.

"You will be."

"Sasori, I—"

She never got to finish.

Kagome had been cut off by the crude sound of metal slicing through the air and digging into sweet, unprepared flesh. The grotesqueness of the weapon being withdrawn replaced the preceding noise in the air.

"Nani…?" was the devastated whisper that slipped through her parted lips.

The moon still shone, serving as a lone audience to the cryptic scene playing out below its heavenly beams.

As apathetic as it were, the majestic satellite showed no signs of sympathy, nor did it quiver in repugnance when astonishing amounts of blood spurted out from Kagome's freshly inflicted wound. The stricken young woman's nightclothes became drenched in her own liquid, the more prominently tainted area being her upper body. A growing puddle of crimson formed at the feet of the two supposed lovers.

Quivering as blood spilled in rivulets down her gaping mouth, Kagome leaned back, still held in the once promising hands of the man she had stood alongside for years, from his childhood to the present. Her shaking eyes, teeming with unspoken fear and an overwhelming feeling of betrayal, flitted over to his right hand.

It held the kunai that had dealt her the first and final blow, and coating it was her very blood—generous on the blade. The red substance slid down to the callous fingers holding onto the weapon. From the corners of her eyes she espied the golden surface of sand beneath her feet, the grains of honey becoming tainted with a startling amount of vivid _red_.

Her knees shook and she had no hopes of holding them still. They buckled, and she descended without grace like a dove having fallen from flight. Even as she clung to Sasori's legs (…_why… why is this happening…? WHY…!_) there was no support keeping her to them, and the pitifully distraught female fell backwards. Her ebony tresses flew in the wind with her descent.

As her clothed back made contact with the puddle of her own blood, the latter seeped through the fabric to her skin. She choked on her own fluid as it bubbled up in her throat, the metallic taste unforgiving. Her trembling, uncoordinated hands tried to cease the gushing of her slashed neck, her wobbly hands pressing on the wound in futility.

…_Sasori wouldn't do this to me… This isn't Sasori… Sasori… it's not you, tell me it's not you! Onegai…!_

Chest heaving and anxiety shooting off the charts, she fixed her terrified eyes upward on Sasori. With the moon behind him, casting upon his form an ethereal glow, he was unearthly.

—like a God, wondrous and terrifying, claiming her life for his own.

She couldn't read his expression; she could only see his normally unconcerned carmine eyes, now darkened by what must have been insanity.

_How horrible…_

His image wavering due to her rapid loss of blood, Kagome reached out to him (_Help me… help me… Sasori…)_, her shaking hand doused in crimson.

Sasori knelt before the body and grabbed hold of its raised hand. He entwined his fingers with hers, and laid a chaste kiss upon them, paying no mind to the blood soaking into his sleeves and shinobi outfit, and now smothered all over his closed lips. It was everywhere—on his face, his hands, his Jounin vest and pants.

"I'm… s-s-scared, Sasori…" she whispered, the rueful words identical to the ones from the day when he had comforted her in a similar manner—simply by holding her hand. Her breathing was harsh. Within her dying eyes was an unsettled look that spoke volumes of her inner turmoil and panic. Simultaneously, it also displayed her lack of understanding, and revealed the painful amount of effort she was giving just to stay alive—to find out his motivation, his reasoning, for what he had done to her and _why_. Sasori set the kunai next to her head, as there would be no need to strike her again. She would soon fall into a deep slumber, never to awaken again.

This was the least painful way, for both of them to escape from the clutches of the ruthless Sand village.

He gently placed a blood-stained finger on Kagome's lips, shushing her—coloring her lips red, like his.

"Don't be. From this, you'll be mine forever."

Tears slid down the young woman's face and whether out of euphoria or sorrow, he could not discern. Regardless, he placed the palm of his hand against Kagome's now pallid, clammy complexion, marking it with a hand print of blood. Two of his own tears fell from his crazed, carmine eyes and landed on Kagome's face, her last inner thoughts unspoken as her brown orbs relinquished their exquisite shine. She heard a few more words, however, before the magnificent brilliance of her life completely faded into nothingness.

"No one can hurt you anymore, Kagome," Sasori told her in a ragged whisper, smiling darkly as several more tears ran down his cheeks, the expression coming off as deranged. He allowed himself to continue speaking in a soft, quivering voice, "As you wished, you will be by my side… forever."

—

"Danna!"

Sasori was pulled out of his daydreaming, and an ever so slight _kink _was heard as upraised his mechanical head towards the source of the voice.

"Like I was saying, un. Why is this the only puppet you never use?"

Looking thoughtful, Sasori concisely replied, "It serves as but a memento for the reason of my leaving Suna."

"That's interesting, I suppose… I can tell you didn't put much work into this compared to your other puppets. Seems like nothing but a shiny trophy, no good for killing."

Sasori, annoyed by his young partner's lack of taste, retorted, "I don't expect you to understand, insolent brat. Now leave, I must finish the maintenance on Hiruko without your constant disturbance, lest we remain at headquarters even longer."

With a grunt the blonde man complied to his wishes and left, leaving behind him a comforting _click _as he closed the door to Sasori's workshop. It was a secluded room that Pein had long ago provided for the puppeteer upon his joining of Akatsuki. With an abundance of space and all the tools a craftsman could think of, he was able to fix up his assets and—when in possession of a worthy body—build more.

Sasori faced the victim of Deidara's scrutiny: his greatest artwork. The puppet was flawless and beautiful, resembling a human perfectly, lacking only a living soul. It served indeed as a reminder, for whenever he gazed into its disembodied eyes he could recall the memories of his childhood and younger self. As well as of her; of days back when the body before him had been fleshed out and very much alive. The one thing he had been unable to return was the laughter that once came from its lips.

Raven hair, pale skin, brown orbs—the last trait least recognizable, as the sparks of life were necessary for it to be genuinely realistic.

He took a few steps forward, arriving in front of the puppet. Ironically though he called it that, it wasn't really, because he never controlled it with his chakra strings. Sasori only permitted the figure to sit in his room, safe and away from harm, and he would tend to it whenever dust appeared to collect anywhere on its form. He was most cautious of it breaking, or even gaining a scratch, although with his scrupulous skills any dent could easily be remedied. Akasuna no Sasori took extra precautions in dealing with it. It was the result of his first attempt at converting a human corpse into a puppet, which had been a sublime success. The second had been Sandaime Kazekage, and not long after that, himself.

Gazing into dark eyes, those without opinions or thoughts, he ran a cold finger across once warm and soft lips.

Alive or not regardless, it was Kagome—she was still with him after twenty years; more or less, even now faithfully his. He had salvaged her from a possible life of hardship which Sandaime and Sunagakure would have forced upon her. Sasori had more than kept his word of not leaving her behind in that god forsaken place. And to this hour, she was as stunning as ever, just as she had been under the full moon those many evenings ago. The night he had granted her nothing short of consummate peace, before he assassinated Sandaime Kazekage with his own hands, and fled from the village that had been his provenance.

Her loveliness, having endured the detrimental years, was _everlasting_. He had preserved her, made her so she would last through time; she was his greatest art.

"…we are together, eternally…"


	10. So Hide Your Eyes: Madara and Izuna PT1

Mmm, I had this sudden caprice to write about the Uchiha brothers: Madara and Izuna, as they are both very interesting characters. Thanks to everyone who still reads this motley of mini-stories called _My Courageous Shinobi_! This particular piece is somewhat portrayed dominantly through the elder brother's memories and recollections, and mainly voices his general inner thoughts and interpretations of the chronological events. (The time period is before the collaborative founding of Konoha.) **Warning**: this particular _two-shot_ (because it spanned well over 20,000+ words I split the chapter) is not for the fainthearted—just saying. Also I would like to stick it out there that for those of you who may have enjoyed "Everlasting," there is an upcoming vignette-sequel for it!

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing except my creative juices that form this story into what it is.

Chapter Ten:

"So Hide Your Eyes"

She had come to him on a warm, balmy late afternoon, with a myriad of cherry blossoms falling and gyrating elegantly behind her. Her steps were poised and her posture proper, pleasantly so, though she did not walk with the vain dignity that nearly all Uchiha possessed. He right away concluded that she was more than qualified to be one of them, at least on the outer shell. Her hair and eyes personified the inky nocturnal sky, while her fair skin opposed it as a beautiful contrast: the generous moon amidst a lightless surrounding. When she eventually reached the gates that lead into the main compound, she chose to peer up at him through her dark lashes; tiny hands fixed together and placed below her abdomen.

In that transient moment he bared witness to the gamut of emotions and open revelations flitting across her caliginous _brown_ eyes, as though he were an audience to a fast-forwarded play.

"I'm sorry," the young woman expressed contritely, furthering her apology with a humble bow. "I lost track of time even before I realized."

Madara nodded concisely. "It's alright. Come."

After the conclusion of their brief greeting he promptly opened the entrance and courteously allowed her discreet steps to precede his. He was well-aware of the woman's identity, and precisely what her purpose was for being present in his home that day; along with what she meant for his future and rising clan. With her trailing docilely behind him he lead her into the conference room where others of important statuses resided.

Immediately once they arrived, a precious minute was spared to scold the unpunctual woman and chastise her for having had the _gall_ to be tardy to such an imperative meeting. In reply she had smiled—_again_ that downright rueful expression, he noticed—and once more recited her rehearsed words of penitence.

It was there with the turnout of the other head Uchiha members, and his parents and hers and his younger brother, that her fate was irrevocably carved into stone—_theirs_, entwined. With scanty concerns as to any repudiating opinions the two of them might have held, or alternative desires wished for, he and the woman were betrothed on the spot. They had been, starting from the portentous instant they stepped foot inside the room.

During a particularly insipid discussion he permitted himself to glance at his side, and saw his newly arranged fiancée staring vacuously at the paneled wooden floor. Diminutive fists curled tightly, her delicate knuckles were planted atop her tidily folded legs. Once he reallocated his private gaze he espied his sibling examining her as well, though the latter was less surreptitious in the manner of what he did.

"We are so _honored_ to be given this opportunity," breathed the woman's mother, a sprinkle of freneticism in her voice. She then turned to her daughter with the vulpine intention of supplementing her superfluous remarks, when she acquired sight of her offspring's discouragingly overcome deportment; a head lavished with raven locks slanted downward in depression. Suddenly her jaded eyes attained a malevolent glint, exposing her abrupt and defectively hidden ire, and Madara did not miss the artless change. "Isn't that _right_, Kagome?"

Her shoulders tensed visibly and she seemed to have trouble swallowing the accumulated saliva in her throat. "H-hai…hahaue," she answered submissively. When her chin rose back up she attempted to bestow a gracious expression on the many other Uchiha, but its feigned nature was tangible.

Madara could easily perceive it: this woman was miserable simply being here.

Despite her trifling social blunder, the elders plainly disregarded her and her palpable lack of gusto. Instead they chattered enthusiastically amongst themselves, talking animatedly of the prosperous future that laid in wait for the Uchiha. They spoke of how it was a resplendent decision: pairing together the two most promising ninja from their clan—in terms of the Sharingan's essence flowing profusely through their veins.

Then, a withered and frail yet venerable voice brought to the fore a tangential topic better left untouched. Kanae, a wrinkled and superannuated old woman who had seen better days as a vigorous kunoichi, expressed her pity, tutting, "Yet if that Kikyou were still alive, she would serve as a more fitting bride for our esteemed Madara, would she not?"

From the periphery of his vision Madara saw the young woman at his side brace herself, like a snake reflexively winding its body into convolutions for defensive purposes.

"Quite true," agreed another privileged dignitary, "as this one deliberately scorns the path of a ninja."

Several sets of jaundiced eyes placed themselves on the current topic of their interests, seeking an impossible answer that would sate their curiosities. Sepulchral brown orbs were directed south, defiantly refusing to acknowledge the critical gazes and surrender to them the vindictive satisfaction they desired. Her lips were adhered so closely that it might have taken the finest kunai to tear them back apart. The mother of the woman appeared anxious, unnerved by the unforeseen introduction of precipitous silence and her daughter's refusal to cajole her way out of it.

"N-nevertheless, we all know Kagome has always had exceptional aptitude for tapping into the raw power of the Sharingan," she explained hurriedly, palms raised toward the ceiling to emphasize her honesty. "If not for the fact that she is utterly spineless when it comes to fighting, she would have turned out to be perhaps an even greater kunoichi than Kikyou was!"

A hum of mild approval came from the wizened Kanae's throat. "Well, the genes are what purely matter in the end, I suppose. We can only hope then that _cowardice_ won't be passed down to the offspring in addition."

Discerning the intent of movement with his superlative keenness, Madara's onyx eyes inclined to where the obtrusive waves originated from. As he had inwardly predicted, the ebony-haired woman at his side shot up from her seat, and as she stood momentarily erect all attention was on her.

He did not miss the rapid fluctuating of her bosom as it rose up and fell back down, manifesting the consummate indignation she harbored within.

But whether she was more rattled by their arranged engagement, or the flagrant contempt that had been articulated towards her by the censorious elders of their clan, he did not know. For instead of verbalizing her pique she opted to briskly flee the room; clumsily yanking the shoji door aside and bolting through its gap.

The rushed pattering of feet was noisy in all the assembled Uchiha members' ears. Kanae glowered testily at the humiliated mother of such a socially inept woman.

"Normally she is not so uncouth when it comes to etiquette…" insisted the degraded parent, her ripened complexion spoiled crimson by her unfettered mortification at being put on the spot. Then she muttered a quick, "Please excuse me," and determined to be in the elders' good graces ascended summarily from her position on the paneled floor; leaving her flattened seat cushion bereft of human mass. Without so much as giving her impassive husband or anyone else a concluding glance, the woman too whisked outside.

As Madara's insightful eyes followed in suit until she was entirely gone from view, he noticed that from behind they were perfectly indistinguishable in exterior: both mother and daughter.

And as extensive minutes passed by—those he were counting secretly—he surmised that the two females were not to return for a while. Yet not a single person in the proximity bothered to address the such or make an inquiry of it. At one point while his father was engaging in a markedly engrossing conversation with his fiancée's, Izuna coincidentally decided to excuse himself in order to "use the washroom."

Though everyone else who granted the younger Uchiha brother to do as he wished—with fond nods nonetheless—failed to make note of it, Madara did not: the haze of concern in his more harmonic counterpart's eyes. Soon after, he too mimicked his sibling and requested permission in obtaining a "breath of fresh air." To which none denied, of course.

For him it didn't take long until he found two feminine figures stationed adjacent to the grandest tree in his family's outdoor garden. Evening had by now already claimed dominance over the unhampered heavens, and had it not been for the luminescent moon his fiancée and her mother would've been shrouded wholly in darkness.

Judging from the ardent body language exhibited by the older of the women, Madara knew that the more shrunken, vanquished individual leaning back against a massive bark was being severely rebuked. After swiftly scanning the area he discovered that Izuna were nowhere in sight, and utilizing his stealth crept closer to where the volume was spiking.

"…so that's how it's going to be, is it?" asked a tone laced with vehemence. "You will deprive your parents—_I_, who birthed to you—of the honor we rightfully deserve."

There was no response paid in reciprocation, and only the wind made sound as it sighed woefully through the night.

Nostrils flaring and brows knitted in anger, the exasperated mother demanded, "Why must you do this, Kagome…was it not enough for you…?" She became forceful by lunging her arms forward and grasping at the front of her daughter's clothing. When she again spoke there was a tint of derangement. "Being such a tease, by having shown everyone as a child that you were the most gifted of all young females in our clan…only to _forsake_ the Sharingan years afterward…? But you weren't satisfied knowing that you had brought upon your wearied hahaue a title of unfathomable disgrace…for having nurtured the 'self-declawed Uchiha.'"

High above in the dark sky a thick white cloud obstructed the ethereal moon, projecting upon the terrain a temporary eclipse.

"…and then when my ultimate redemption at last came, when _Kikyou_ decided that her poor hahaue had suffered enough," spewed the woman airily. "You stole that from me as well, and in spite of the fact that you are mine…I will forever despise you for it. For having killed your only sister, who by all rights should be the one giving her hand to the head's elder son in marriage—not _you_."

Finally, Kagome chose to respond. "I know, hahaue…I know," she whispered dejectedly.

A grating sound came from the rear of her mother's throat as the woman toiled to not suffocate on her own ineffable sorrow. Her daughter stood immobile in compliance, eyes closed in anticipation for what were unmistakably next to happen; as though she had encountered the same scenario numerous times before.

In a near instant, the older of the two retracted her right hand from Kagome's collar and wrenched it back, primed to strike the living source from where all her ignominy stemmed.

Madara caught glimpse of a dangerous vermillion gleam in the frantic parent's eyes, revealing outrightly that she had undoubtedly activated her own Sharingan. He deduced that he'd seen enough, and now it was time for him to intercede.

But when the celestial moon, no longer impeded by pestering tenacious clouds, once again shone down on the human inhabitants of earth it was not Madara who stood erect behind the shocked middle-aged woman holding her wrist captive…

…but Izuna.

The offender gradually turned her head, and instead of the rancor and spite that had been etched on her visage moments before, there was a veneer of cordiality. Her serene façade was impaired however by the shudders running perceptively down her back.

Kagome's gaze was stable on the lush grass below, oblivious to the shinobi who had just delayed the executing of her unjustified mistreatment.

"Please refrain from demonstrating unnecessary violence on these grounds," warned Izuna frostily, his corresponding Sharingan orbs glowing minatorily as he discharged his prisoner.

"I-Izuna-sama!" the astonished woman exclaimed, guilty of her crime now that it had come to light. "I-I was merely discussing the marriage arrangements with her. Please forgive me, it seems I've let my control slip." She had no reluctance when it came to apologizing servilely to the renowned Uchiha brother, although minutes before she'd been disparaging her own daughter as though she possessed the authority in passing God's judgement. "I am truly remorseful for this—"

"You need not worry since I won't tell anyone," interposed the equipoised male, barely reaching his twenties but transcending in skill those more than thrice his age. He inclined his head toward Kagome, eyes still embellished with the black tomoe that signified his Sharingan's activation. "If possible, I would like to have a word with her."

Nodding so fervently that the front curls of her hair bobbed, the woman acquiesced, "Yes…of course." Without even considering her daughter she offered a low bow to Izuna and subsequently strode vigorously back to the main house; unable to detect Madara's cloaked presence as she passed him by. He fastened his attention onto his younger brother, wondering of the latter's motive for having so chivalrously disrupted the discourse between mother and daughter.

"Are you alright?" Izuna asked the female, whom remained attached to her solid, dependable tree; his Sharingan now dismissed.

Kagome sighed lowly and parted from the rough bark. "You shouldn't have intervened," she clipped.

The male seemed taken aback by her response, though he did not evince that he was. "Your mother was harassing you."

"It's only because she cares and wants the best for me," said Kagome automatically, though she lacked assurance in her feeble voice.

"For herself, you mean," Izuna asserted.

On the woman's face a slight look of annoyance was borne, and she glared mildly at one of the corpulent roots slithering out from under her foot; knowing that it was beyond her boundaries to directly convey distaste towards the Uchiha of higher prestige than her. Still, she did not appreciate the derogatory insinuation of her parent as being selfish and egoistical—and Madara could see that.

Kagome inaudibly excused herself with a polite bow and stepped away from the tree, murmuring that she should probably go back inside the house. It would've appeared strange if the interval amid her mother's return and her own was too wide.

"Wait."

She halted as requested, her back to the younger Uchiha brother as she long-sufferingly waited for him to continue. A white, red-tipped round fan greeted Izuna's eyes; the illustrious symbol crested on the woman's apparel proving her allegiance and belonging to their clan. Leaves rustled unanimously in the garden as an especially potent gust carried itself throughout the night.

"I know you," was the gentle conclusion of the man's words.

Turning her chin just enough to view from the corner of her eye the shinobi standing behind her, Kagome's contemplation lingered on him for but an ephemeral moment. "Everyone does," she responded, before somberly regarding again her path ahead and walking forth to the main house. "I am the self-declawed Uchiha."

Just as her mother hadn't, neither had the daughter in noticing Madara's being present when she slipped past his location.

Once she was fairly far off in the distance he emerged with crossed arms from behind the tree that had serviced him well, making himself known to Izuna—who was not the least bit surprised. In fact, he did not spare his firstborn sibling a glance, as he were still mesmerized by the fading emblem moving farther and farther away from him: a white, red-tipped round fan. It were not until the image totally disappeared that he deigned to recognize his lifetime competitor and elder brother, who inspected him with calculating onyx orbs not unlike his own.

The duo returned in opportune fashion to the room where their elders still conversed; neither subject to criticism for their prolonged absences.

For the remnant duration of the evening while he simulated interest in the vapid dialogues that were exchanged, Madara clandestinely surveyed his fiancée. When she assumed no one were looking, Kagome placed a reassuring hand over her mother's and gave it a tight squeeze: _I will fulfill my duty and make amends for you, hahaue…so don't be miserable anymore. _

Like him Izuna watched as well, though with an indicipherable meaning in his half-lidded eyes.

—

His metal chopsticks clanked occasionally against either the porcelain bowl encompassing his cooled rice, or the plates of similar substance presenting to him complementary side dishes. Although there was one other person sitting athwart him at the opposite end of the low portable table, she too made no excessive noises. They were meeting more frequently nowadays, with all credits due to their dictating mothers. Both had concurred in that their reticent children were too incompetent to "break the ice" without adventitious help, and thus took matters into their own manipulative hands: by setting them up on spontaneous "dates."

Legitimate progress was rarely ever made, but Madara _had_ grown a tad more familiarized with the reserved female—or to be more accurate, her presence.

Handing Kagome his emptied container, he spectated as she instantly placed down her own eating utensils and gingerly accepted it from him. Turning to the pot at her side she cautiously lifted its heated metal cover, and grabbing hold of the bamboo rice scooper that had laid dormant within, transported a liberal portion of fluffy white grains into his bowl.

Subsequently she offered it to him with her palms supporting it from the bottom, head sloped downward; showing reverence and quaintly avoiding eye contact simultaneously.

The shinobi wordlessly accepted his second serving from her and carried on to placidly consume the meal she'd prepared for him. He had been absent from the village for days, due to the momentous task he and Izuna had been assigned by their father, who had immeasurable faith in his sons' unparalleled prowess when it came to combat.

And although he had not arrived back drenched in blood nor with oozing scars adorning his body, he had thought his taciturn fiancée would at least go the extra mile to either ask him if everything had proceeded smoothly—or alternatively, smile sweetly and congratulate him for another spectacularly accomplished mission (like how so many of the other Uchiha did without fail, though with additional praise). But she mentioned nothing of the sorts, preferring instead to keep true to her withdrawn nature.

Or was it that she simply did not care?

Madara laid his gaze on the woman who was so indifferent to the subject of his physical welfare, watching as she delivered a modicum of rice into her ready mouth. With her chopsticks she reached for a green side dish, somewhat hasty in action in case the man dining with her suddenly realized he wanted some as well. Never did Kagome lift her eyes from the food that had been cooked with her own untarnished hands, as though it would've been a grave misdemeanor for her to do so.

Yet it wasn't so much that she were austere when it narrowed down to table manners, as compared to the concrete fact that—as usual—she merely desired to finish the meal, see to it that he was satisfied with it, possibly make small talk afterward and then promptly depart.

She eventually realized he had stayed at rest in his position without any movement for quite a while, and dared to peek up at him. Seeing that he was contemplating her, her brown orbs darted back down. Awkwardness circulated through the dense air, and there was total silence until one of the two Uchiha ultimately fractured it.

"You're rather different from your sister," said the male.

Tensing a tad, Kagome responded, "People…have always told us that."

Several times in the past Madara had fought alongside the venerated kunoichi of his clan called Kikyou. Albeit she had long since bid farewell to the physical realm, other members of the Uchiha still spoke avidly of her; preserving her in their hearts. They referred to her as the standard of what all females in their tribe should amount to, and that she was yet another excellent representation of their blood.

Naturally they also brought up Kagome, describing the woman with condemnation as a disastrous shadow that had failed even in just clinging onto its master's form. The apparent history behind the latter was that since early childhood she had demonstrated exceptional potential and constantly contended on equal grounds with her firstborn sister. They had employed each other as mutual support, and extracted from one another the drive they required to develop exponentially as ninja—not at all unlike the relationship he and Izuna boasted.

Then it was said that one unanticipated day, the admirable Uchiha Kagome experienced a fatal meltdown.

None other than her sister knew of the veritable reason or cause that had caused her to shut down so piteously and suddenly. Back then, prevalent gossip had accentuated the central detail that the former kunoichi was no longer willing to fight—even in the name of her clan. Having been the first to ever declare such a preposterous thing, there had indeed been uproar as a result.

Many had demanded to know how the young woman could inconsiderately brush off the vital needs of their tribe, when they were nearing their peak in terms of power and still feuding with antagonistic clans.

Some were provoked solely by her inexplicable decision to eternally renounce her Sharingan.

Needless to say, controversies arose, and while one of the two dominating sides of the argument pronounced that she should be sentenced to the gallows for her impudence, the other proposed that she be allowed to live in the chance that she someday changed her mind; it would've been a shame to kill off her innate talents along with her. Basically she had to have _some _use, even in desuetude.

The Uchiha were most ungracious to those of its own kind who refused to carry out their obligations—_especially _if they were individuals with remarkable capabilities willing to squander them. Regardless, the leading heads had ultimately arrived at a verdict that the second party was to win the torrid debate, and Kagome was permitted to continue dwelling within their isolated village, life intact.

Several years later the appropriate "purpose" everyone had blindly hoped for revolving around the defective ex-kunoichi finally arose, at last unshackled from the abysmal sea of the unknown. It were that she would do well in conceiving the endowed Madara's children, synthesizing their genetic factors to produce heirs that would one day grow up to be awe-inspiring ninja. After all in the end, even if the woman was flawed as a person that didn't mean her genes were too.

It was a more impeccable prearrangement than anyone could have imagined, even if Kikyou were originally the one they had expected to be wed to the elder Uchiha brother. Albeit Kagome was "incapacitated," that disability merely worked to her—or _theirs_ to be more precise—advantage.

What she lacked in her ineptitude to stand on the war zone fighting for her clan's honor, she could make up for within the walls of the main house: cultivating the budding children of brilliance.

Even better, she could continuously be expectant with Madara's son or daughter (assuming there would not be twins) in her womb, one after another as each was consecutively birthed. No one could think of a more proper end for the woman who had practically betrayed her clan, only to be spared. Never did it occur to them that they were demoting her to a position alike that of a mere canine; one forced to perpetually whelp pups in a never ending cycle for others' profits.

Madara reflected over his intricate thoughts.

He perused Kagome's physical features, juxtaposing her and Kikyou in his psyche. The deceased sister was poised, dignified and noble—like a rose of ice that was impervious to melting. On the other hand was her dissimilar equivalent: this woman was soft, pliable and meek—an exquisite flower that could easily be crushed if not handled sensibly. Emanating from her was a far more companionable aura, and it seemed as though comparing the distinctions between the two sisters yielded the type of outcome one would gain from trying to do the same for winter and spring; and him and Izuna.

"Were the two of you close before her passing?" queried Madara.

He found himself intrinsically curious over the relationship the female siblings might have shared. If it had been good or bad, after Kagome's disavowing of her Sharingan. Could he have looked at or treated Izuna with the same mutual respect he did now, if his younger brother had pulled a brazen stunt like hers?

Before she responded he already knew her answer, because of the smile on her face that was novel to him; sad and reminiscent.

"I cherished her more than you could imagine…and I can only hope that nee-san still felt the same way about me."

Her words were earnest, and Madara nodded once in recognition. Subconsciously his mind stirred up a deserted memory: of when he had been relayed through a kinsman the details of Uchiha Kikyou's unfortunate demise.

In concise terms, she had vicariously fallen in Kagome's stead.

The latter had been on a straightforward errand that was supposed to have required nothing but minimal walking and the making of monetary transactions with an allied clan.

Initially from the start, it was solely the young woman who had disposed of her kunoichi duties that was assigned the job, through her own request of somehow aiding her people. The other had shadowed her furtively (accompanied by a single shinobi), having heard rumors from the grapevine of devious plotting behind the backs of the Uchiha; intending to investigate the allegations while concurrently safeguarding her sibling, undetected.

The claims turned out to be true: their longtime associates had been conniving underhanded schemes in order to steal the secrets of the Sharingan, and leverage them for their own lucrative purposes. After they had garnered enough strength from doing so, to then massacre those they would no longer publicly deem as "comrades." That particular day had been the one when they decided to ambush whichever Uchiha envoy came into the vicinity of their village, already in the knowledge that no notably skilled ninja would be delegated such a banal chore.

Going by the meticulous recollections of the shinobi that had escorted Kikyou on her undertaking, it was revealed that as suspected, a band of elite ninja had ambuscaded the unwary Kagome.

Precisely at that moment the sister who had been in hiding also made her solitary entrance, without her male Uchiha assistant beside her; having commanded him to flee with her sibling to safety upon the opportunity she would provide him—as faced against the adverse odds, it were not possible for all three to survive.

So he had performed strictly and obediently as instructed, with an ex-kunoichi in his arms clawing madly at his skin, screaming herself hoarse for the other young woman that was left behind to fend for herself.

Kikyou never came back home, even as Kagome stood night and day at the main entry to their village, waiting.

The former's outcome was shortly later discovered, upon the Uchiha clan's relentless slaughtering of the serpentine tribe that had intended to betray them. Virtually hovering over fatality, the leader of the decimated group had had the audacity to taunt the Sharingan wielders in his last spluttering moments: by apprising them of Uchiha Kikyou's gruesome fate.

"_That cunning bitch had temerity_," was what he'd said.

Once she realized there was not a dram of a probability for her to escape, she had gouged out her eyes and crushed them while left unattended in prison. Even as she were hauled away to the torture room, having guaranteed for herself an excruciatingly painful end because of her bold actions, she had been smiling; blood streaking down like bitter tears from hollow sockets where she had prior beheld the world.

Then Madara remembered—the ceremony that had been held under Uchiha Kikyou's name.

Kagome had been present that day, crumpled near the grand stone that was to represent her sister, weeping uncontrollably. Not just her, but all of their clan's members had been in attendance to pay their respects—to the kunoichi that had proved loyal to them until the very end; mutilating her own eyes to preserve the Sharingan's sacred mysteries.

And he could now also visualize in mind the way Izuna had viewed, with unseemly compassion in his eyes, the sobbing woman begging deliriously for her beloved sibling to return. At the time he had deemed it rather curious how his younger brother was obviously plagued with sympathy for another's bereavement, though he was a seasoned shinobi who comprehended fully that death was inevitable for ninja…

_"I know you."_

He looked at Kagome, who must have now felt a mite more comfortable with him, for she met his meditative gaze.

"Would you like another serving, Madara-san?"

—

Today the sun was certainly munificent, and from its sovereign position it blanketed the grounds underneath it with a placating warmth. Birds caroled with boundless exultation as they dashed from one tree to the next, before launching altogether into the skies with their feathered plumes. Painted cerulean and located tantalizingly out of the reach of mortals was the pristine firmament, its wispy unruffled occupants—the clouds—sluggishly moving along in serenity.

Yet despite the sublimely wondrous conditions, Uchiha Madara was barefacedly ignorant of it all, having eyes only for the figure crouched before a creek. His fiancée had no idea he was casually spying on her—how often he actually _did—_from the distance, concealed under the bountiful foliage of the tree whose sturdy branch he stood upon; the ex-kunoichi's inability to pick up on his unveiled presence a testament to her terribly dulled senses.

The envious wind whispered pointedly to him, entreating for his attention to be placed on the astounding weather. As he felt the shifting of uneven hair at the nape of his neck, he also descried his uninvited younger brother making an appearance from the side.

Hearing the sound of footsteps, Kagome paused and swiftly turned her head to the source from where they came. Seeing that it was the man who had spoken to her on the night of her betrothal, she furrowed her brows in suspicion, unsure of whether he should have had a reason to approach her.

"There's no need to be so alarmed," assuaged the male Uchiha, a flirty breeze playing with the upraised collar of his shirt as it passed by.

Her skepticism did not fade, but the woman knew it would be boorish of her in asking the unwanted shinobi to kindly continue walking. So instead, she wordlessly returned her attention back to the saturated materials in her hands. As she devotedly washed her belonging beneath the water's surface, occasionally rubbing a coarse bar of soap against wet fabric, Kagome did her best to ignore her unsolicited guest.

The man was now squatting next to her, observing her inquisitively as she tended to her own tedious chore, pondering on why she would insist on such a nettlesome job instead of leaving it to the dutiful maids.

Having gathered that he most likely wasn't planning on leaving anytime soon, the woman recessed once again.

"Is there"—she paused for a few seconds, considerate, "—something you need?"

Izuna raised a brow, looking at the female whose chin was dipped down toward her labor. "You needn't be so anxious."

"Well…it's anything but easy to relax when a stranger randomly sits next to you and doesn't even tell you what he wants," Kagome elucidated.

"I'm hardly a stranger," claimed the shinobi, displeased that she would refer to him as such.

A minute of uneasy silence elapsed.

"You've become cold. Just like Kikyou-san."

Upon digesting his candid statement, Kagome was frozen stiff. She then budged to examine her hands: they were much too velvety and unblemished for an Uchiha. "No," she objected quietly, "my sister always had courage—unlike me."

In mute response to the unnecessary devaluation she laid upon her own character, Izuna frowned.

_That woman is being excessively hard on herself, _thought Madara.

He saw when his fiancée wiped defiantly at her eyes with the dry sleeve of her clothing, muttering something akin to "pesky bugs of the season." Kagome then advanced onto wringing the fabric in her hands, the grip she enforced fiercer than the task required; knuckles deprived of color.

—

"Goodnight, Madara-san," bade the raven-haired woman, rolling up the parchment in her hands and setting it aside his futon. Reaching calmly for the candle holder, she brought it to her lips and blew tenderly; quelling the miniature flame. Then instead of joining her betrothed in his sizable bed, she rose to a stand and excused herself with a proper bow before heading to exit the chamber. This was how things had transpired for the past few months since she'd moved in to the main house. They spent time together in undisturbed tranquility every evening, with Kagome reading aloud for him diverse lores, tales and other miscellaneous contents inscribed in ancient scrolls; the literary abundance from the Uchiha tribe's archive never to run short.

Afterward she would leave him to his solitude for the residue of the night, and return to her private bedroom for rest. (It was a minor request she had made—to be permitted sleeping alone while she was still unwed. Her mother did not know.)

And in the present, while Kagome might not have been able to discern it with her neglected skills—or lack, thereof—of perception, Madara was certainly more than alert of his brother's lingering patiently behind the screen door to his chamber. He transiently mulled over the alleged stories of how both his intended and her sister were said to have shown prodigious aptitude and adeptness while young. Kikyou was the one who carried on in honing her proficient abilities and fostering greater expertise, while her sibling who had also been progressing on the road to success, lost her path and accordingly her willingness to fight—becoming crippled as a ninja.

Kagome vanished behind the exit, sliding it shut with an aim to do so quietly. He assumed that once she turned the corner she must have then spotted Izuna, for there was a muffled cry of distress and thrumming of startled feet as she backpedaled on the paneled wooden floor.

Then he inferred that his younger brother signaled for her to keep soundless and follow him, because their steps, although plainly lacking in synch, proceeded together in a direction opposite from where Madara stayed put; the lighter ones possessing measurable reluctance. Speculating at what it is his sibling could be playing at, and if Izuna were conscious of his deficiency in discretion, the elder of the two decided also to follow.

In the chilly darkness, invisible demons forged of ice nipped at the heels of two speeding individuals. Albeit already having crossed a fair distance the male maintained leading his captive by the wrist, more for the reason so she couldn't escape him, rather than preventing her from somehow getting lost. Madara tailed the duo from afar; onyx orbs lustrous in the obscure environment.

"Izuna-san!" exclaimed Kagome, her vexation crystalline.

"You shouldn't be so formal with me," chided the man without looking back, "since you'll soon be my sister-in-law."

"Where are you taking me so late in the night? If anyone sees us, they'll misunderstand!" the female Uchiha scolded, paying no heed to what he just said. There was desperation in her voice and Madara inwardly knew that Kagome was presumably most afraid of her mother being that ambiguous "anyone."

Izuna dragged the grousing, loath woman all the way to a massive lake that resided amidst the copious forest neighboring their village. The moon beamed charitably down on the enormous body of aqua, its privation of trees allowing the divine satellite to thoroughly illuminate it. Native crickets chirruped melodies depicting their unimaginable elation while frogs croaked complacently in tune.

Kagome bent over to catch her much needed composure, now free from the firm grasp of the obviously insane man who stood adjacent to her, unfazed.

She glared up at him, panting. "It's _rude_ to suddenly drag an unwilling person out to a secluded place at near midnight—did you know?"

It was a first for Madara to witness his betrothed speaking in such a…saucy fashion.

His brother was amused, judging by the nuance in his tone. "Pardon me, for trying to help you achieve a much needed catharsis."

"What are you talking about?" demanded Kagome, her usual subservience having evaporated.

"I'm _saying _it would do you good to lighten up," the shinobi explained simply. "Although our clan is infamous for its aloof and phlegmatic ninja, I've never seen an Uchiha constantly mope as much as you do."

Undoubtedly, Kagome was offended by Izuna's blunt comment, but without further ado the man grabbed her unexpectedly ("H-hey!") by her shoulders and spun her around to face the majestic lake. Quiescence reigned over the verdant surrounding as even the boisterous animals seemed to silence themselves, as though to assist the woman in easing into their home. She warily scrutinized the area, out of the blue overwhelmed with visceral nostalgia.

"I've…been here before," she mumbled quizzically, delving within herself for the evidences that were sure to exist.

Izuna stole the liberty of lessening her mental exertion. "This is where we first met."

Uncertain but not yet fully disbelieving his words, Kagome faced him. On cue he dropped his hands from her smaller figure, and Madara saw him lift up the bottom right corner of his shirt. The older brother knew that in the specific area a scar never to totally heal resided—often he'd seen it himself in the past. But what was its meaning? He hadn't known it even _had_ one.

"You…you're that boy…!" gasped the woman, struck with a thunder of realization as Izuna put his clothing back in place.

Before she could utter anything else the shinobi shushed her with his own words.

"And if you too are that same girl, you'll still have much adoration for this place," the ninja reciprocated. "It'll 'bring peace into your heart' as it did those many years ago, correct?"

Kagome gazed at him with a measure of awe. "You remember me saying that?"

"Though you couldn't even recall my face or name, I hadn't forgotten a single thing from those days."

"…oh, I'm sorry. It's just…a lot has happened since then," the woman apologized regrettably, her words weighted with guilt. "…but who knew"—she drew forth strength and adopted a more cordial and reminiscent tone, "—the little boy that couldn't even throw shuriken without hurting himself, would grow up to be a celebrated hero of our clan?" As Kagome inadvertently teased Izuna, the elder Uchiha brother could envision a slight curve indicating a smile on his younger sibling's lips—and truthfully, he did not exactly relish that likeness.

A longing expression on her countenance, Kagome regarded the coruscating lake.

"I have so many memories here," she mused redolently. "It's a wonder how I succeeded in locking them all away up until now."

"Why did you?" Izuna questioned softly, and Madara couldn't decide if there was a hint of…_pain _in his voice.

"Because," replied the woman, grief now invading hers, "when nee-san passed away it was only proper…for me to give up things I once enjoyed as well. It wouldn't have been fair to her…for me to continue living guilt-free with happiness, at her expense."

Izuna considered her as she continued to study the lake expansively, her face grave. He replaced a firm hand on her shoulder. "Stop, Kagome—"

Noticing the lack of an honorific when his brother called the maiden's name, Madara also thought that he said it too casually—as though he had _always_ been saying it.

"—enough with punishing yourself over Kikyou-san's departure."

Kagome's bewildered eyes were now on the shinobi, trying to interpret the meaning of his words; searching for underlying trickery. "I _killed _her—"

"_Iie_," Izuna dissented sternly, "and if you continue with that mentality you're only belittling the significance of her death."

With speed matching that of what it takes for sunlight to penetrate the earth's atmosphere, the woman's countenance contorted into one of extreme denial as she vehemently snapped, "No…never! I would _never_!"

Before she realized it Izuna then clutched both her shoulders and twisted her dynamically to face him with her entire body. Her eyes stretched impossibly wide, evincing her fright at the prospect of hearing something that could, after the silent years of agony and suffering that had already passed—finally shatter her completely.

When the shinobi spoke there was more conviction backing his tone than Madara had heard in the longest of times.

"So what? So _what_ about the fallacies your mother imposes on you out of spite—or the fictitious rumors the members of our clan spread in whispers behind your back, just because they have nothing better to do?" He reaffirmed his already unyielding grip on Kagome, before relenting by dropping his voice down to a murmur. "…you didn't kill Kikyou-san."

Although she struggled violently to escape him—from the _truth_ she had yearned for so long to be told, yet now feared intensely—the woman's unsuccessful efforts were futile, and she could only gaze at Izuna, hypnotized. Her misted eyes were glistening with renewed hope and unshed tears as they besought him to continue; an image that was both striking and heartrending.

"She forfeited her life for you, her only sibling," breathed the man. "Because she loved you…more than she loved herself."

"…Izuna—"

"And I know…because I too would've done the same for my brother—"

Madara's obsidian eyes widened of their own accord in an unconscious response to his sibling's revelation.

"—I _know_ that she moved on without any remorse. She was happy…" Izuna's volume plunged into a nosedive so low that his older brother couldn't make out the rest. "…to have been able to trade her life for yours."

Kagome's hand soared up to contain her mouth, her palm sheltering her quivering lips. Then, her shoulders began trembling in an irrepressible manner, and as they did she emitted not a sound. The initial stiffness in Izuna's arms uncoiled, but as he kept his mindful grasp on her he viewed the woman with compassion—precisely as he had years ago during her sister's funeral.

When at last she spoke, it were as though her very soul had just been liberated from the chains of a devastating burden.

"…thank you…thank you…" she rasped as she cried, repeating her words of salvation over and over without ceasing, even as her delicate form was overrun with powerful quakes.

And it echoed in Madara's ears the rest of the night as he watched her.

"…_thank you_…"

—

Consequently after Madara deflected a kunai with unadulterated grace and ease, he unleashed his own set of shuriken upon his opponent. Izuna was, by the same token, just as lithe as he and had minimal difficulties in evading his automatic counter. To anyone else spectating the two shinobi from afar, they would've managed naught but wisps of dark hair and two matching Uchiha crests appearing and disappearing like lightning bolts from sight.

Weapons of expansive assortment littered the perimeter encircling them, proving that whenever they sparred together although a definite amount of restraint was practiced by both siblings, they were still equally as serious as they would be in life-threatening combat.

When their held blades clashed against each other's in a resounding stalemate, Madara leveraged the chance to inquire of his brother that which had been agitatedly lingering in his psyche for days and nights.

"How do you know her?" questioned the elder of the two sternly.

Izuna looked him dead in the eye, and Madara was unable to conclude whether his younger sibling hadn't a clue—of his having been observed while speaking to Kagome during those few past occasions, or if he was actually aware of his nii-san's invasive actions and chose to conceal that he were.

"Kagome?" asked the other man as they jumped apart; and he couldn't subdue his inward discontentment upon how Izuna so assuredly referred to his fiancée—even if there was most likely nil amid them short of mutual tolerance. At least that's how it should have been, anyway. "Ah…it stems way back to when we were still children. You can recall the time ages ago when my aiming had been horrendous, right, nii-san?" The shinobi then straightaway chucked a metal projectile towards Madara, and the latter dodged it with pure agility.

The younger Uchiha's aiming was anything _but _"horrendous" now. There was a _shing_, and Izuna resumed his rehashing of the past.

"I injured myself while training in the midst of that forest"—_that_ was all Madara needed to know in order to confirm that Izuna had indeed been aware of his following, "—and while she happened to be there picking remedial herbs Kagome found me somehow unconscious on the floor and aided me." As though to then inadvertently goad his older brother—who had just rapidly implemented a set of hand seals in the blink of an eye and let loose several medium-sized fireballs on him—he supplemented, "She kindly remained by my side until I awoke, and we became well acquainted from then on. Since she often made excursions there to train near the lake, I usually kept her company whenever I wasn't with you, nii-san."

As a discordant _sizzling,_ having emerged from the aftereffect of his Katon jutsu, hissed mockingly in his ears, Madara didn't know what to cogitate over first: the disclosed truth of all those bygone incidents where Izuna had contrived elaborate justifications for himself in order to train in solitude when he had, in concrete reality, been instead with Kagome—or the fact that he had simply _been _with his to-be betrothed for so many uncharted hours, days, months.

To further poison the precarious situation, despite the younger brother's tone which was collected and orderly as normalcy dictated, there was an elusive 'taunting' underlying it.

And it irked him.

Madara zoomed up to Izuna in an unexpected burst of speed, deftly swinging a trenchant kunai at him. He achieved a neat cut on the latter's cheek, and his younger brother's eyes narrowed, having felt the genuine intention of harm behind his assault. In response without delay he assumed a fighting stance, prepared to engage in an all-out brawl—

"It's time to eat!" exclaimed an amicable feminine voice, the wholesome sound originating from the direction of the house. Kagome's head followed in sync by peeking out through a semi-opened shoji door; her fingers pushing aside the impediment. She then bent down and grabbed by its sides a low square dining table laden with two rice bowls and colorful side dishes.

Lifting up the totality with all her womanly might, she walked three careful steps over the verge separating the home's interior from its outside veranda, and set it down.

The Uchiha brothers reverted to staring each other down once again, still stagnant in their battling positions. With a final energetic summon from Kagome ("Hurry please—before your meals cool off!"), they reluctantly settled for dropping their weapons.

Backs straightened, they relayed to one another through their eyes an unspoken message: _We will finish this later_.

As the two seated themselves across from each other with Kagome in the middle—Izuna to her right and Madara to her left—lifting the still remaining white lids off a few side dishes, there was temporary armistice. The older male of the pair privileged himself a comprehensive view of his fiancée, and noticed right away how her eyes twinkled happily. No longer were they despondent brown orbs dimmed by inner turmoil as he had initially distinguished them when he first made acquaintance with her.

It appeared that since her visitation of the enormous lake (with his _brother_) lying near the purlieu of their village, her overall attitude had undergone an extraordinary metamorphosis.

With a single encouraging nudge, the dainty flower had effloresced once again after lamentably closing itself off; and thus, she were reborn.

And Madara may have permitted a ghost of a smile to fleetingly grace his lips, but the faint possibility diminished when Kagome inspected Izuna with unmitigated concern, for having noticed the minor wound on his cheek. Blood was now trickling downward from it.

"Izuna-kun—!"

He didn't like how his younger brother's name fell from her lips in such a familiar and urgent manner.

"Oh, this?" said Izuna offhandedly, reaching for the napkin situated under his chopsticks. "It's nothing to worry over."

There was a rustling of fine cloth as she moved.

Madara's eyes widened by a fraction of an inch, and his brother also stopped mid-action; his hand hovering dramatically over its intended destination on the table.

Kagome did not pay a soupçon of attention to their stunned reactions as she dabbed tenderly at Izuna's injury. She was likewise unconcerned with the blood now marring the sleeve of her kimono as she deliberately used it in place of a tissue that would've proved far more suitable. The rich, _luxurious_ silk that had personally been requested for tailoring and delivery by the Uchiha matriarch, in order to present it as an extravagant gift for her to-be-daughter-in law the afternoon of her official entrance into the main house—was now defiled by an offensive, debasing streak of vermillion.

After getting over his primary shock, the younger Uchiha brother lowered his hand from the table; a small, content smile suffusing his face.

Differentiating in response—although he expressed naught but perfected apathy on his countenance, Madara's traitorous fingers constricted around the metal chopsticks in their clasp.

There was an instinctive surging of a foreign, eccentric feeling inside his stomach. Was it ugly envy…?

Since the beginning they had always vied against each other in everything they could, both striving to topple his own brother in all challenges. Yet, if this was the next contest initiated by Izuna…

…he may have had already lost.

—

It had to have been some sort of a bizarre mental illness…a disease. All he knew were that something was horribly wrong with him—without a doubt.

Otherwise, what other unaccountable reason could suffice to vindicate for the fact that it unnerved him? The concept of his younger brother and fiancée being alone, together. It didn't appeal to him in his mind for whatever it was worth, though in realism the idea should have been assimilated as a positive progression of events. If she were to become an authentic part of his immediate family after all, it was only expected that she also befriend and develop substantial relationships with the others that would soon greet her every sunrise when she awoke.

But the very thought of Izuna and Kagome in close proximity, just the two of them, generated an acidic burning in his gut.

And he knew it was wrong.

Yet that didn't stop him from peremptorily forcing Izuna to come along on every new mission he was dispatched to, or validating that Kagome had returned to her own chamber—and nowhere else—for the night every evening after she was done reading to him from the scrolls and left him to repose. However there were some things he simply could not prevent or impede, and thus he would follow them in their shadows, chaperoning them from the obscurity.

And whenever Madara allowed himself a split-second to acknowledge what he was doing—that he had fallen prey to a grotesque habit—he was sour.

They were perched on the edge of the Uchiha dock, a place of ritual where many a kunoichi and shinobi of their clan exhibited their accomplished mastery over the traditional Katon: Goukakyuu no Jutsu. The skies were a sultry, magnificent golden-orange; the splash of color extending for miles on end until nothing but the tips of mountains met them. Sinking ever so slowly into the backdrop that was lumps of earth was the declining sun. Clouds, now darkened to a gray hue yet just as cottony and corpulent as they were in the daytime, drifted serenely, lounging blithely until superior darkness came to stow them away for the after hours. The waters were stationary, and not a single aquatic creature dared to stir it for fear of ruining its absolute calm.

Cicadas cried, signaling that it had finally descended: their phase of glory.

_They_, however, weren't speaking.

Kagome sat quietly with a melancholy expression on her visage, her legs both folded to her side and hands neatly arranged over her slightly parted thighs; leaning slightly to the left because of her position. Beside her was Izuna, his legs dangling off the ends of the pier and back hunched forward as he rested his elbows on his thighs.

"You're unhappy," he said, breaking the eerie stillness.

With a half-hearted smile tugging at her mouth's corner, Kagome turned her head to the man. "Nothing ever escapes you, does it?"

"Because everything is always written on your face," answered the shinobi forthrightly while keeping his eyes aligned to the dying sun, "and I can see it. Always."

Knowing she couldn't deny herself any longer, the woman exhaled deeply through her nose. "With every day that passes it only grows closer," she confessed. "But although it's difficult for me, I have to accept it regardless."

Her impending marriage to Madara loomed over her as something to dread.

Izuna was meditative as he lifted his chin to the skies, watching as two avian creatures sailed in the direction of an unknown paradise.

"You'll bear nii-san his children…they'll be strong and beautiful."

A wistful smile wove itself onto Kagome's features as she surveyed her hands. "And I'll love them, because they grew inside me," she contributed gently. "Because they are mine."

"Then look forward to that day," said the younger Uchiha brother confidently as he faced her; and Madara could espy the bittersweet twist at Izuna's lips as he gazed at the woman with obscured fondness. "…when you will have those calling after you as 'hahaue.'"

"Un," agreed Kagome, heartened. She turned to the man, her eyes clear. "Thank you, Izuna-kun."

He slightly raised his brows, as though to say: _F__or_?

In return she indulged him with a rare treat, by smiling appreciatively at him.

"Somehow you never fail in being there…to help me when I'm lost, and can't see…can't find my way," Kagome explained tentatively, raising a hand to where her heart resided, pumping life into her veins at an even faster pace than usual. She veered her brown orbs away out of embarrassment—for the hazardous things she were currently saying, that hadn't even been intended beforehand; purely slipping out on bare instinct. "Izuna-kun, you…"

The cosmic universe seemed to ice over in suspense.

"…you're my eyes."

Madara's hand clenched, and his gaze was unable to tear itself away from the woman—who appeared ready to disclose something _else_ she would do better keeping confined to herself.

Her tone was low as she coyly suggested, "Maybe…we—"

"No," Izuna interjected suddenly, spurring Kagome to look at him. "…don't say it."

They locked eyes, a fervid expression shared between them that Madara could not decipher—and because of it his heart was accelerating, beating furiously. They were communicating through their souls instead of with their tongues, and that was something he could not cheat with stealth.

Kagome was the first to turn away with a faint blush staining her cheeks. Something else that was novel to Madara, as he had never seen such an attractive hue coloring her face; and it was for his younger brother—just like her smiles and concerns were.

If his nails were any longer they would have been drawing blood from the palms of his hands as he tightened his fist even further.

Suddenly, the female Uchiha stood and moved to crouch behind Izuna, a mischievous glittering in her eyes as the shinobi wound around to face her with interest.

"Izuna-kun, can you swim?"

"What—?"

He didn't even have the opportunity to form his initial words of confusion, as Kagome cut him off by swiftly pushing him into the lake, grinning mirthfully.

Although Madara's fist loosened, he had to resist the urge to roll his eyes in utter disapproval. It was plain to see that Izuna had purposely not outmaneuvered Kagome's shove, which would've been far too easy. He had also not missed seeing that his younger brother actually _helped_ her by leaning towards the water at the last second.

"Kagome!" The submerged shinobi rose to the surface of the water, gasping and flailing pitifully like a graceless carp before falling back down into the deep blue. Bubbles of air replaced him.

Madara's brows furrowed in mild perplexity and Kagome began panicking; having realized that her lighthearted prank which was supposed to crack the tension, might have actually turned out rather as a wholly foolish idea.

"I-Izuna-kun!" the woman shrilled with alarm, falling instantly to her knees with her hands at the edge of the dock, consternation in her eyes as she scanned the unforgiving depths for the black shadow of a human male. She had never expected that a powerful shinobi couldn't do something so simple as swimming, and was prone to drowning like everyone else. ("What have I done…what have I _done_!") Kagome's anxious orbs were glued to the murky pits, and she prayed feverishly for the worst not to happen.

Finally, she saw more bubbles arising, and the maiden quickly extended her arm towards where they floated atop. "Grab my hand!"

As she had demanded, the man did…

…and he yanked her down to join him.

Kagome fell in with a piercing shriek of surprise, a large splash ensuing after.

_Child's play_.

Madara's hooded eyes watched as the duo broke the surface, with Kagome clinging like a petrified feline to Izuna, her sodden hair framing her blanched face.

It had all been a clever artifice.

"Y-you liar!" sputtered Kagome as she quavered, her glowering face inches away from the shinobi's. "I-I was so…_you tricked me_!"

"It appears you're the one who can't swim," chaffed Izuna, his tone light.

"Izuna_-kun_!"

Then he laughed in spite of the disconcerted woman in his arms, the sound rich and sonorous; genuine and mirthful; unbefitting of Uchiha Izuna.

—

In spite of the fact that this had developed into a small custom between the two of them, and it had been sustained for now well over two years, it didn't alter the circumstance that he still felt like a child every night because of it. But it was nice, and he did not dislike it by any means. Come every evening he would either be lying down or sitting up staid on his futon, blankets shielding only his legs or full body depending on which.

And she would be by his side.

Her face would be cast a hospitable glow by the luminous candlelight and her eyes fixed to the unrolled parchment in her hands; mouth shifting constantly to form new syllables as her depictions tumbled out to paint vibrant illustrations in his mind. Frequently, after reading an especially lengthy passage, she would absentmindedly run her tongue over her lips; and that one delicate idiosyncrasy of hers would temporarily ensnare his vision with each and every lick.

But her mellow voice was what truly soothed him—a balm for his ears which were all too used to the cacophonous union of kunai and shuriken; the blaring pandemonium of conflagrations and explosives; the coarse shredding and crushing of human flesh and bones. Particularly when she brought her vivid tales to life, her tone would rise and fall accordingly and mold to adapt with the varying moods portrayed through the abundant text displayed near her fingertips.

And thus, rather than following along with the stories she recited to him, he followed her voice; and it pacified the deeply nested restlessness maiming his soul.

This was something Izuna could never have, and he treasured it all the more because of that reason.

"…although their love was forbidden, they would not bare to be separated from one another. Cursing and willing to fight against the cruel fates that had placed them in such a torturous situation, both the woman and man in love opted to die within each other's enclosed arms. Their last kiss: the kiss of venom that would send them off to the afterlife hand in hand, where they would _never_ be forced to part, ever again…"

Kagome paused momentarily for a dramatic effect, before openly evincing the vicarious melancholy she had garnered from the tale with a sigh. "How depressing," she commented under her breath, rolling up the scroll and setting it beside the lone candle. She then placed her refreshed attention on Madara and discovered that he was contemplating her absorbedly, obsidian eyes heavy with ponderous meaning.

And somehow she just knew, that the tragic and picturesque literary piece of the two star-crossed lovers had slipped in and out through his ears.

There was something he desired to express and so she waited, her eyes lowered to a patch of white fabric belonging to the sleeping yukata he wore. She forbore his penetrating gaze for the lengthiest of minutes, the little candle fire providing them light voraciously devouring its way through the victimized wax supporting it.

When he spoke, the baritone sound resonant as it emanated from his chest, she nearly jumped.

"Are you ready, Kagome?"

Slowly, the woman lifted her eyes to the man and she regarded him with poignance; already aware of what he were asking.

_Are you ready to finally become mine_?

She nodded solemnly, closing those very eyes that betrayed her answer.

"Yes…"

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_finito - part one._

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**Update Schedule** for Part Two of "So Hide Your Eyes":

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	11. So Hide Your Eyes: Madara and Izuna PT2

Here we have it all you marvelous readers—part two and finale of this double-shot! I would like to properly express my gratitude for the numerous kind praises I received last chapter, and of how I am totally thrilled knowing that you guys reveled in it so much. So, _thank you_. And now that this is completed and out of the way, I plan to next proceed with a full-story revision and editing procedure for my AU story: _First Love_ (Deidara/Kagome/Sasori); before I then type out the seventh installment for it. Also, just to stick it out there, I have at last uploaded the vignette-sequel to "Everlasting," and it is entitled _Aeon_. But enough of my digressing—let's carry onward with the show, yes? (I would like to dedicate this closure to Thymee Spirit, my favorite and _only_ younger online sister, for continuously supporting my work with avid enthusiasm, and KarasuKimi for her priceless and insightful review on SHYE PT 1—and also because she is fellow lover of Skrillex.)

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing except my creative juices that form this story into what it is.

Chapter Eleven:

"So Hide Your Eyes"

Today, she was indisputably the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on, and she was to formally become his.

Several hours prior the maids had toiled punctiliously in priming her ebony locks for the glorious occasion, fixing those lengthy strands of wavy obsidian hair into intricate designs and embroidering them with the finest of opulent clips and jeweled beads. Rogue had been applied to her teasing lips; her complexion pampered with expensive minerals to bestow upon it a luxurious shine; and her almond eyes accentuated by a gratifying amount of kohl. Her kimono was a chaste pristine white, the only source of concentrated color being the Uchiha clan's insignia on her back—a dash of bloody vermillion. Slithering faithfully after her deliberate steps on the ground were the ends of her silken garment as she steadily walked toward him, guided by the crooked arm of her father.

He was more than complacent to be seeing his daughter off; to be delivering her into the arms of the future leader of his clan. There could be no grander privilege.

But the one truly moved to hysteric waterworks was his spouse, who knelt crumpled at a side where half of their spectating kin was gathered, gushing tears of euphoria. She seemed to be sobbing in the urgent manner a beaten soul would after having finally been salvaged from Hell, rather than as an overjoyed mother who couldn't be happier for her child's guaranteed future of leisure and extravagance.

For she was now wholly redeemed in the appraising eyes of her people. No longer would they pity and deride her in their minds, labeling her as the unfortunate mother who had "lost the daughter of brilliance: Kikyou," and "nurtured the self-declawed Uchiha."

No, from this day forth she would now be referred to as "the reputable Uchiha woman who had fostered our Madara's magnificent wife."

Madara himself was standing imposingly before all of his clan's members, donned in the male alternate version of his soon-to-be wife's kimono. As the enticingly primped woman he were to maritally claim neared by the minute, he promptly espied Izuna from the periphery of his vision—stationed still at a frontal area where the bride would soon pass by before him. He was the only attendee that afternoon garbed in a darker scheme of colors: the navy blue and black he sported a depressing eyesore in the midst of all the other heartening, dazzling bright patterns and fabrics.

When Kagome eventually did reach Izuna, she kept her chin upraised and gaze straightforward; unsentimental brown eyes riveted onto the spot where she would accompany her betrothed.

If she had known that his younger brother's eyes were hopelessly transfixed on her, like a newborn babe incapable of suppressing its fascination for its mother, she did not divulge it. Nor did she intend on finding out. Without so much as an acknowledging glance or even a split-second's regard she persisted ahead, determined in accomplishing the vicarious mission that had been bequeathed to her upon Uchiha Kikyou's passing—to slough aside all obstacles that would impede her on her designated course. She would not indulge Izuna in his frivolous fancy.

Or rather, did she not look at his younger brother…

…for fear of faltering in her resolution the instant she did?

Yet as Madara surveyed his sibling from the distance, he couldn't help but succumb to putrid satisfaction. Albeit as usual he displayed naught on the exterior other than his solemn countenance, inside he was enlightened—he felt _victorious—_when Izuna turned his head to stare after Kagome's back, which was moving farther and farther away from him; a forlorn look in his dimmed eyes.

It sickened him, the fact that he could draw immense pleasure from such a vile thing. From another man's pain—_his own younger brother's_.

Before he was able to register just how much of a time had elapsed, with the benevolent winds wishing him the best of luck for his marriage; the ceremonial pontificating of the withered male Uchiha before him and Kagome; and a particular scene replaying ceaselessly in his head: his bride shunning Izuna's subtle attempt at catching her attention—

She was facing him, and his callused hands were planted on her petite shoulders. He squeezed them firmly, relishing the brittleness of her dainty physique. Due to her negligence of utilizing her body as that of a kunoichi's, it had been able to preserve its feminine frailty. How often had he witnessed Izuna in this exact same position, and waited long-sufferingly until it was his rightful turn?

And now, he was to do what his younger brother could only have fantasized of doing.

"…pronounce you both husband and wife."

Immediately Madara pulled the woman to him with his authoritative hold, allowing no room for her to consider leeway. She was akin to a soulless doll in the aspect that she listlessly permitted him in advancing as he pleased. Even if she had wanted to defy him, she could not. Kagome had realized the stinging truth—long since before the day of their marriage. Her silk-covered arms were limp and hanging unresponsively at her sides as he gradually lowered his head down to hers. And for a portentous moment, he gazed sincerely into her diffused brown eyes. They were glossy and abound with unexpressed lamentations. And they were betraying her again.

So she closed them, for him, just as she had before. Her lips gingerly parted to beckon him forth, the bottom portion quivering.

Madara reacted aptly by placing his mouth over hers, and he squandered no valuable time in deepening the kiss by his unilateral choice. Without delay he thrust his tongue inside her warm cavern, and once more she was not spared a single chance in denying him.

And although she kept her tongue flat against the bottom in tacit refusal, he was plainly unconcerned and smugly roamed over the inner contents of her mouth. Madara directed his wet flesh over her teeth and the spongy sides encompassing them, and vigorously explored wherever else he so desired. When Kagome unconsciously tilted her head backwards—as though to _escape_ him—he merely followed forth in subsequence, and in additional response ventured to further press her body against his by establishing a persuasive palm on the small of her back.

Both their ears were swarmed by the tasteful lauding of their fellow clan members.

None paid heed to the crystalline rivulets streaming down their upcoming matriarch's sealed eyes. To them, she was not crying—but simply evincing her state of utter bliss.

And Madara could not resist from smirking against her delectably slicken lips.

_You belong to me_.

—

It seemed as though to have arrived in the blink of an eye, the evening of his wedding.

Madara sat with his new bride atop _their_ futon, both of them still dressed regally in their ceremonial kimono. For them it was a mere lone candle, bright in its intensity, valiantly keeping darkness at bay. There was an unsettled expression on Kagome's face, and as usual she kept her gaze averted from his.

"Now that the celebrations have passed," he said lowly, "you know what is expected of us to be done."

"Yes…" the woman agreed quietly, though her body said different. Located on top of the opening of her kimono were her fingers, latched tightly onto the precious cloth for dear life.

Madara's keen eyes fastened themselves onto her whitened knuckles, pensive. He was already aware of what duty called for and what had to be accomplished this momentous night. Yet the thought was surprisingly disagreeable in his mind. The prospect of _forcing_ Kagome into laying with him was rather… unpleasant. If she was so intensely terrified of the idea, of his naked flesh upon hers, for him to proceed anyway would be the equivalence of sexually assaulting her. Though in all honesty, there was no need for him to take into account such asinine things, and he knew. But regardless, he couldn't shake them off. Perhaps, maybe, deep within his subconscious, he wanted for her to accept him and his touch, through _her_ own individual choice.

He was yanked away from his thoughts by the sound of her movement.

Fingers now steady, Kagome ever so slowly, and tentatively, started fumbling with the obi at her waist.

He stopped her by putting his hand atop both of hers.

She paused and peered up at him quizzically, questioning the nature of his actions.

Their eyes locked; both pairs were shining, reflecting a small candle fire's glow… and something else.

"I will wait for you," he told her, in a tone so indulgent for a battle-inured warrior like him that it was almost startling.

It was even more unexpected when Kagome uplifted her chin towards him with a stern, unyielding look in her eyes. They were bright, and from much more than just the candle fire's illumination. And when she spoke to him, there was remarkable resolve in her voice. She showed to him a strength that he hadn't even known she was capable of.

"There is nothing between us at this time, I know… and I won't fool myself by assuming there will be something in the future," she said. "But despite that, I will perform my duty for the Uchiha—"

He could only stare at her, his astute ears detecting no fallacies. Kagome's tone and conviction merely intensified, simultaneously.

"—and my children… although they won't have been conceived out of love… even if _you_ will have no love for them…" She trailed off as her voice failed her, but drew in a great breath. Then, her brown orbs solidified as she pinned him down with them and continued untiringly, "_I_ will love them deeply as their mother. So much, that just my love alone will be enough to fill the voids they may have as they grow"_—_the small hands below Madara's balled into fists, "—no_…_ they won't even _realize_ those voids exist."

A faint, overdue smile tugged at the corners of the man's lips, and he would've been lying if he claimed to be unimpressed by the woman's forward proclamation. The hands still beneath his were warm and soft, and his _wife—_not his fiancée, and not _Izuna's_—stared pointedly at him, as though daring him to utter a word of defiance against her passion.

She was loyal to their clan, and she would be, even more so, to their children.

He could not have resulted with a better conclusion for a woman to stand by his side, regardless of the fact that she were no longer the kunoichi she once was.

That mattered not.

Uchiha Madara was, after all, more than powerful enough to suffice for the both of them in terms of strength.

And he would protect her, when she could not protect herself.

"…as you wish," he murmured.

Without further ado, Madara reached a hand towards the candle burning placidly. He pinched the fire between his forefinger and thumb, effectively quelling the baby flame.

He was gentle with the woman of his future as he carefully undressed her, caressing her along the way with a tenderness none but her would ever know of. He exerted additional effort into easing the stiff tension out of her body. Yet, the most difficult feat he had to pull all night was likely in what he said next, temporarily discarding his pride in the name of _her_ comfort: the exquisite spring flower in his possession, Uchiha Kagome—and not the winter rose, Uchiha Kikyou.

As he was atop her, cautious so as to not crush her under his cumbersome weight, he dipped his head past hers. Her slender arms coiled mindfully around his neck, and she felt his hot breath waft over her ear. His rare compassion that evening emerged in the form of a whisper.

"Only for this night… you may imagine it is him."

Kagome said nothing.

And as he kissed her lightly, Madara knew she had tried to do as he advised. Because he could feel the single, damp path going down her cheek.

Her body may have belonged to him, but not her heart.

And Madara knew.

—

"Mangekyou Sharingan…" murmured Kagome, gazing directly into Izuna's reddened eyes. "You're both the first to have them."

Her hands instinctively went to the noticeable bulge at her stomach, and she had on her face an unreadable expression. It had been months since she had last spoken to the man before her, and it was ironic how they had crossed paths again after having avoided each other for so long of a time: in the forest where they first met.

As though they had both gone chasing after old memories.

Madara surveyed his expecting wife from the shadows of a tree, as he often still did, though no longer was it due to suspecting her and his brother of engaging in private meetings. He was dictated by a visceral urge to keep her under his constant watch. To make sure she was functioning all right at all times during the day and night, especially now that she was heavy with his first unborn child. Unquestionably so, she would probably have loathed to find out what he was doing—what he _had_ been doing for years on end since the evening they were betrothed.

But it was fine. For such a time was never to come, not if _he_ could prevent it.

"Congratulations, you've become another legend in our clan," said Kagome as she steadily walked past Izuna, choosing to settle down on a large boulder. She examined the beautiful lake in front of her, happy to internally confirm that it hadn't changed since the last of when she'd seen it. Her look morphed to one of yearning. "…or that's what I'd like to tell you, but I can't. I can't bring myself to do so. I wish… your eyes hadn't changed."

"This is the path of the Uchiha," Izuna told her, his voice impassive; not kind for her as it had once been.

"It's a curse," Kagome corrected grimly. "Either killing someone you hold dear, or watching them die before you in order to gain greater power… That's the worst."

Izuna moved toward her, his feet mowing through the grass. He was completely silent otherwise.

"It's the very reason I swore never again to use the Sharingan," sighed the woman morosely. "My opinion of it became skewed, once I read into the forbidden notes of our elders' experimental logs. After that, my fascination and worship was twisted into disgust and horror… I couldn't even bring myself to continue fighting as a kunoichi. Because of these eyes I had prized so much… and what they really turned out to be…"

Izuna was behind her now, standing motionless. He always had been, with naught to see of her but her back and the Uchiha crest imprinted on it.

"Can you imagine what it'll be like?" Kagome mused as she slowly arose from her seat, heedful of the weighty load at her midsection. She spun to face Izuna with crestfallen eyes, one hand placed protectively over her unborn infant. With the sizable gray boulder preventing them from being any closer together, he stared back at her. The younger Uchiha brother's crimson orbs were still ablaze with the Sharingan's activation, the altered design of their augmentation eminent.

Quietly, she supplemented, "Seeing those who you care about, _watching_ them, change… because of this curse placed on our clan. That would be the absolute worst, don't you think…?"

In wordless response, Izuna calmly raised a hand sideways to level with the woman's own eyes, and fully blanketed them with his palm.

A stray wind blew, flirting with the front bangs of his hair along with Kagome's inky tresses.

She was stock-still otherwise, allowing his touch to stay; one arm down at her side, while the other was curled around her expanding stomach.

And Madara, watching in secrecy as he leaned against the tree behind him, heard what Izuna conveyed to her afterward.

The ponderous words were instantly carried away by a breeze and into the elder Uchiha brother's ears, before passing on into oblivion.

"So hide your eyes."

—

He observed her as she slept beside him, facing him. Her expression was always most at peace when she was under the spell of deep slumber. Rarely did he ever see such a mellow display on her visage otherwise. Madara brought his hand to her forehead, pointed, and lightly slid it down. His fingertips gingerly traced over the structure of her nose, then wandered over to linger on both her eyelids one by one, feeling their rounded shape; then the curves of her cheeks, and then her lips. They were somewhat chapped tonight, presumably from the chilly weather passing over.

Silently he withdrew his hand.

And just as stealthily he moved his head forward, to leave a secret, prolonged kiss on Kagome's roughened lips.

She might have smiled as he did. He would prefer to believe so.

—

This time, she was the one studying him as he slept. Or so she thought.

Madara's eyes calmly opened, and both onyx and brown pairs locked through the obscurity.

It would appear the darkness made Kagome bolder, for she did not avoid his direct gaze like how she did in the daytime.

She was searching him, his soul.

And they stayed like that for minutes on end, on their sides atop their shared futon, considering each other.

Perhaps it had been hours.

For Madara, it all flew by like seconds.

—

A short-lived cry of pain was elicited from Kagome's lips, and she recoiled from him. She immediately bent down to inspect her injured foot, grimacing as she found that a jagged shard of glass had lodged itself in it. Between them on the wooden floor were many more fragmented pieces, glittering mischievously in the afternoon sunshine. Spilled tea seeped through tiny unnoticeable cracks on the outside veranda, dripping down from under it and onto earthen terrain.

Madara was speechless.

When handing back his wife the glass cup, he had released it too soon. There had been a temporary fuzziness in his vision that tricked him. The such was occurring more often as of late…

But he would never admit to it—whatever mystifying ailment it was plaguing his body. Still, he was perturbed.

Maybe Kagome knew.

Because he felt an alleviating hand touch his, and when he looked up she was smiling consolingly at him: _It'll be okay_.

—

It had been all too arduous, the mission. He had felt that at any moment his knees could give way and lead him to the ground. To then be left for dead.

But he had endured the pain—the unbearable pain which had first originated at his eyes, then progressed down his whole body until everything ached insufferably.

He sustained it until he saw her, strolling out from the main house to respectfully greet him upon his return.

With the last of his vitality he staggered to her, and she was instantly alarmed because she could see how unnaturally wan his complexion was.

Then, within her fragile arms, he lost the light in his eyes.

"_Someone, please_!" Madara heard her exclaim at once, her tremulous voice all he could hang onto as interminable darkness encroached upon him. "_He needs help_!"

She cared.

And that pleased him.

—

He was a powerful shinobi—the best among the best.

So it was stupendously pitiful how he was now, laying in his bed with his woman beside him, having to take care of him and refresh his perspiring body with a moist rag every mid-hour. He permitted no one else to come near him except her; he would show no one else his pathetic weakness.

The Mangekyou Sharingan had assisted the Uchiha in flourishing and dominating countless other clans, and without it they would not have been able to advance so far as they did. That was the irrefutable truth. And now it was treacherously working against his body like bane, because he had exploited it to the point of overtaxation. The incalculable ninja he had slain in numerous battles, both shinobi and kunoichi, were taking their belated revenge upon him even as they were shackled to the underworld below. It was drawn-out torture, and unlike a pain he'd ever experienced. A pain he could not hope to recover from, and his health was on a steady decline; and it was waning.

He, Uchiha Madara, redoubtable leader of his distinguished clan and an elite shinobi, was deliberately withering away in his bed.

"Please, no more," his sniveling wife implored, delicately positioning a folded wet towel over his burning forehead. "…don't use it anymore."

Madara had to restrain himself from angrily snapping at the absurd woman. From barking at her, demanding for her to stop being so damnably imbecilic. Because it was already far too late, and there was no way he _could _use his eyes again unless he wished to expire on the spot from doing so. And the bitterness he refuged within his heart amplified. He absolutely abhorred how she plainly seemed as though she were begging not for his sake, but Izuna's.

Pleading for his younger brother to cease his usage of the Mangekyou Sharingan, before he too ended with a contemptible fate like his elder male sibling's.

And in his indignation he remembered something else that goaded the flames in his heart into growing.

Since the fateful night of their marriage, she had never again called him by his name. Not once. Before that, she had only referred to him courteously as "Madara-san," and nothing more.

And even that had been said for the last time on the evening of their matrimony.

Kagome must've been aware that it would appear abnormal continually calling him "Madara-san" after they were deemed husband and wife. Something more along the lines of "Dear," "My love," "Madara-koi" or "Madara" was more suiting for the 'intimacy' that was proper to exist between them. Even "_Madara-kun_" would have sufficed. Yet, she could not muster up the meager will to use any of those simple terms. Instead, she preferred to totally omit his name altogether. And he knew, although he never addressed the mild crime verbally nor confronted her over it.

She was unable to find it within herself to truly accept him as her husband. The undeniable fact was poison to him, and Madara was resentful.

_I despise this woman… I despise this woman… I despise this woman__…_!

He felt feminine hands grab hold onto one of his.

Kagome gently led it upward, and she left it atop her protruding stomach; her fingers neatly lined over his. It was much wider in size than it had been the last time he felt it.

Underneath his palm, something strange occurred: a sharp, jerky movement.

Madara opened his searing, throbbing onyx eyes, and directed them on his wife. Her form was blurry and he couldn't make out the fine details.

But when she spoke, her soothing voice was a euphonious balm for his ears. As it had always been.

"It recognizes its father's touch," she crooned faintly.

And as the torrid red anger in Madara's mind, stemming from the verity that she would never truly acknowledge him, simmered down until it completely faded away—a cynical conclusion surfaced:

_You shrewd, shrewd woman__…_

—

The Uchiha were in a frenzied panic: their matriarch had been kidnapped. Word had extended beyond their village, carrying with it the arcane knowledge that the wife of the head of their clan was heavily pregnant and ripe for the plucking. This was the opportunity rivaling tribes had been biding their sweet times for. The anticipated occasion in being able to deal a savage blow upon the formidable Sharingan wielders as a whole.

By slaughtering their matriarch and her beloved unborn child, who would no doubt pose as a nettlesome threat once it grew to become a full-fledged ninja.

_Where are you, Kagome? Where are you—_

Madara struggled out of the compound, panting harshly, helpless and too ill to do anything—to even save the lives of his woman and the unborn she were carrying. He vainly opened his eyes, but only the hazy lighting of fire from the surrounding lanterns was clear in them. And they burned, as though kissed by lips of acid.

The maids trotted to his fallen form, shrieking his name and each blaming the next woman beside them for having allowed him out of their sight. They stretched out their arms and tied in aiding him. Only to be shoved roughly aside and snarled at. By their normally dignified Madara-sama, whom was resembling little more than a feral beast on this catastrophic night.

_Kagome. Kagome. Kagome. Where are you? Kagome__…_

With onerously strenuous breaths he hoisted himself back up.

_I cannot see you__… W_here have you gone_…_? 

He collapsed uneventfully to the ground, a sack of flesh devoid of strength. An army of sweat trailed down his temples, and his long raven hair clung to his skin. ("Madara-sama, please!")

___…_Kagome.

He was nothing; powerless.

It seemed to have been hours as he laid there, with his face against the glacial dirt ground, disembodied onyx orbs staring vacuously into nihility. They felt as though they were being stabbed repeatedly, by trenchant daggers forged of Hell's flames. Yet in spite of that, he denied them reprieve—denied closing them. Even if he did, there would be no garnered solace for him upon doing so. Without having to so much as move an inch, the world itself was reeling ecstatically around him while he remained prostrate on its welcoming terrain. The beseeching of his maids still went unheard to him. ("Is he all right? Mada___—_don't touch him, Kayuka!")

And a realization—a numbing, bone-chilling recognition—echoed unremittingly within his mind. Bouncing resiliently off the interior, crescendoing by the second—

_I have become nothing__…_ I am left with nothing___… n_othing___… nothing____…_

Eventually, demanding footfalls reached his ears. And from the significant pattern, he knew of them to be Izuna's. More steps followed after, tracking behind the initial ones.

Madara sluggishly lifted his head. Through the glaringly luminous light he drank in the ambiguous figure of a man, soaked in blood, gleaming crimson—

And for a fleeting moment he is uneasy; afraid, to find out whose blood that is. He doesn't want to know.

—with others fanned out behind him, also uniformed befittingly in blotches of cerise liquid.

None spoke, nor stirred. Not even the hushed maids, whose hands were raised to their gaping mouths, their eyes suddenly dewy.

But there was a feeble, doleful crying that ensnared him.

The crying of his woman, her sweet, mellifluous voice_…_

"Please… not my baby… take me instead—"

Madara's eyes, no longer listless, widened.

"—spare the child… it has done no wrong… please… please…"

Kagome's delirious whimpering was the only sound audible, aside from the crackling of fire, as everyone else kept dead silent.

Madara strained to focus his eyes and regain authority over his decrepit vision, desperate to gain a glimpse of his wife. To see that she was all right.

And as he does, he thinks he can make out her form: cradled in the dependable arms of his younger brother, her own arms wrapped defensively over her stomach—that which appears ready to burst—and wretched blood splattered across her beautiful silk kimono. It is the same one he gifted her months before—Madara can just tell. After tonight, she would never be able to wear it again.

"Not my baby… not my baby… not my baby…"

And she continued to weep out of trepidation for her darling child's life—even as she were unconscious in Izuna's arms; her poignant sobs resonating.

"…_kill me instead_…!"

And because of his health's despicable deterioration, Madara had almost lost her permanently: this amazing woman before him.

The widespread lies and slander about her from years back in the past—they had all been atrociously flawed. She was no craven as they claimed, for having abandoned the path of a kunoichi. Uchiha Kagome was just as courageous as her heroic sister who had clawed her own eyes out to protect their clan. For her unborn child, in the vast hopes of bestowing upon it an opportunity to survive, she had been more than willing—_anxious _even_—_to sacrifice herself in its stead.

The fresh, bleeding scars on her breakable figure were the testaments to that, and they would never fade entirely; only serving to prove that she had been brave. For his child—their child.

And she had nearly slipped through his grasp for eternity, this amazing woman.

Because of his broken Sharingan.

In lieu of his place, his younger brother had immediately sprinted to her rescue and returned her to where she belonged.

That was _his_ job—she was his, and _his_ alone—but Izuna had done it for him.

For that, the elder Uchiha brother detested his miserable, broken self.

His broken Sharingan.

—

Madara opened his bloodshot eyes. As soon as morning light filtered through, an excruciating sensation swept over them: the ceaseless pricking of invisible knives.

He lethargically turned his head to see the other body beside him in bed. A woman. Chest rising and falling in stable tempo. Alive.

She was wearing a peaceful expression again, as she always did whilst sleeping. Her hands were stationed as guards, fingers interlaced on her inflated abdomen.

Slowly he lifted his hand, and it made way toward Kagome's two.

But he stopped, and lowered it back down.

This was the woman Izuna had protected for him. The woman he had failed.

_…I am nothing._

—

It had been a shock when Izuna approached him unexpectedly in his room, with the most uncharacteristic of pleas.

"Take my eyes, Nii-san," he said. "If the research compilations that have been passed down in our clan are true, then you will reattain your power… and more."

Madara who was sitting up, unable to see his brother through his now pitch-black vision, uttered not a word.

On that day, Izuna had come off as rather sentimental.

"The Mangekyou Sharingan wasn't enough," he whispered dejectedly. "Though I acquired it for her… it wasn't enough. Kagome almost died."

At that instant, even without his purposeful guidance, Madara's fingers had already begun moving on their own accord.

First they were at the center of Izuna's chest.

Then they moved northward, progressively… up his neck, and the virile bulge in the middle… curving outward… up his chin… and past his mouth and nose… steering up to linger above his closed right eye.

The single sphere beneath his velvety lid of skin was alluringly smooth and round to Madara's two pointing digits. And for but a transient instant, the elder brother hesitated. But then—

"Please, protect her, nii-san."

Madara obdurately plunged his fingers forward into the socket of flesh, effortlessly wrenching out its occupant with a bizarre, squelching sound. Izuna did not so much as scream.

He envisioned that his younger brother had instead been grinning like a fool.

His sibling and rival, Uchiha Izuna, was forfeiting his Sharingan—the most cherished asset to those of their blood—for the well-being of _his_ own wife.

And though he should have been overjoyed with the auspicious turnabout of things, Madara was embittered.

When confiscating the remaining eye, he took longer than he had with the first.

—

Kagome gazed into his faultless eyes with unfettered astonishment, unable to comprehend what she was seeing. She was beyond disorientation, after having recently arisen from what had ostensibly been a "prolonged rest caused by severe illness"—or so she had been told. When she awoke, she hadn't been able to recall a single event that had ensued prior to her enigmatic slumber. And as Madara inspected her with somber onyx orbs, he knew straightaway what had happened: her psyche had intentionally relieved her of the traumatizing memories, in order to safeguard her.

Her sanity might not have stayed intact otherwise.

As for herself, she were wholly incredulous. Kagome couldn't believe in his miraculous recrudescence—how he was back to normal, and healthy and robust, and _standing in front of her_ as if he had never been irrecoverably crippled from the start.

There was also something chillingly eerie about his eyes when he looked at her. As though they were not his. They did not suit him, and it were almost like they belonged to someone else.

Deep inside, she must have known the dawning truth, yet desired to reject it with all her heart. "How…?"

"A new pair," he answered smoothly. No hesitation. Madara watched on without difficulty as Kagome's face contorted and twisted into one expression to the next. An entire spectrum of emotions waltzed athwart her countenance, outrightly evincing her inner turmoil in short, timely intervals. Her show of dramatics was enhanced by her eyes, growing wider and wider by the second—so wide as though they would soon slide out of their holdings with a clean _pop_. Her lower lip trembled, and she paled considerably. Truly, it had been a magnificent sight to behold, the delightful way her complexion simply drained itself of color like rich, vivid liquid being poured out through a glass teapot.

_You know._

She did.

"So he hasn't been ill, has he…? That wasn't it… it was a lie…" Almost too low to hear.

Madara was devoid of expression as he gravely nodded once. Apparently, Kagome had gotten wind of Izuna's inexplicable refusal to leave his room.

"…and that's why he… he won't see me…?" the woman breathed, her composure cracking. Her brows furrowed as she stared down at the floor in denial. "No_—__no_… There's no reason he would—"

"Izuna gave up his eyes so that I may protect you"_—_Madara's unsympathetic gaze was hard on her, and his voice equally austere, "_—_with this _Eternal_ _Mangekyou_."

Kagome shook her head fiercely. "Iie, iie…"

"You are in love with him, and he with you—"

Her broadened brown eyes teemed hazardously with unshed tears, the masses of liquid threatening to spill over. "_Iie_…!"

"—my own brother."

Madara watched with hollow interest as she spun on him and scurried awkwardly out of their bedchambers without another word; as swiftly as she could with the monstrous burden at her stomach. He serenely reached out his right hand toward the blazing candlelight stationed perfectly on the midsection of the nightstand where all its predecessors had also stood. Over the flame, his forefinger and thumb hovered uncertainly, for just an ephemeral moment. Then they lowered, and pinched the insignificant life between them away.

_—_and darkness was upon him.

His eyes narrowed. Then, he followed after Kagome with poised, collected feet.

He already knew where she was headed.

…

…

…

And eventually, his steps decisively led him to the maid maintaining guard outside Izuna's bedroom. She was leaning defeatedly against the wall of his home, shouting agitatedly after the round, feminine figure that had just zoomed past her. It could easily be presumed that with the added caution of trying not to harm the pregnant matriarch, the woman had attempted at being gentle but unfortunately ended up getting forcefully shoved aside.

"My Lady, you must stop—!"

Madara granted her rest with a dismissing hand to her shoulder, and she then took notice of him ("Madara-sama!"). The maid bowed lowly, intending to apologize profusely for her failure.

"Let her pass," instructed the man coolly, before he too followed after his unruly wife.

…

…

…

In his unlit room, Izuna was frowning as he sat up in his futon, having sensed—and _heard—_the weighty, clumsy steps rapidly approaching him in his direction from the outside. If anything he hadn't wished to be seen in such a deteriorated state, but it appeared as though there would be no way for him to hide himself any longer. With a self-depreciating smile the man lowered his chin, causing his bangs to cover his eyes, as though the inadequate curtain of hair would serve well as a veil for him.

The sliding shoji door slammed open all the way through, and the tumultuous noise was strident in his ears.

His panting guest did not speak, and neither did he while he kept his head down _as if he ought to be ashamed of his self_.

Kagome tromped over to him, and dropped gracelessly in front of him atop his blanketed legs. Decorums flung aside, she immediately clasped his pallid face between her shaking hands, her foreign touch gentle. Then she lifted his head up toward her, which he permitted.

Seeping in through the high open window before her, the moonlight beams revealed to her precisely what she had dreaded.

His eyes were bandaged, and they showed no physical evidences of possessing smooth, rounded spheres beneath them.

"Izuna," she whispered. Her voice kept low, for it might have broken if not. All formalities had evaporated.

"You'll always be safe now, Kagome," he said to her, smiling reassuringly. "I won't let harm come to you, nor to the child in your womb whom you love… More than yourself."

Kagome reflexively withdrew her hands from the man, as though she'd been burned. Her fingers were now fastened to her lips, obstructing them.

She remembered.

_Please… not my baby… take me instead—_

He had saved her.

_—spare the child… it has done no wrong… please… please…_

Izuna had fought fearlessly, with his very life on the line, for her and her child.

…_kill me instead…!_

And now he had sacrificed his greatest treasure—his _Sharingan_—in order to ensure her safety at the hands of his elder brother.

Tears streamed down from Kagome's glazed eyes in silence, as she fought with all her might not to produce any sound lest Izuna hear her.

But it was futile, because everything was always written on her face. And he could see it—

"You're unhappy again," he murmured. Izuna then smiled, like before, and affirmed, "Though I won't be able to see you anymore, I still know exactly how to imagine you in my mind."

—_always_.

She broke, as did the dam she had worked so hard to build for herself.

Kagome's hands plummeted down to Izuna's thighs, her nails scraping at the thin blanket shielding them as she drew her fingers into fists. A strangled, airy whine emerged from her stinging throat and she bolted her eyes closed, unable to bear up witnessing anymore. She began uttering mournful cries that were no longer repressed by any means. And now that she had started, she was incapable of ceasing. As her shoulders trembled, she was frantic. Her lips were curled back as she sobbed openly, reciting the man's name over and over as tears fell from her puffy, bloated eyes.

"Izuna… _Izuna_…" she whimpered loudly, grieving for the man who had forgone so much—for her. "_Izuna_…!"

Then, he grabbed her roughly by the wrists and yanked her forward, wanting nothing more than to hold her to him.

Though she was now quieted, _more_ tears sped down from Kagome's sealed eyes. All the while as she savored the bittersweet pleasure of Izuna's lips on hers.

His tongue was already raiding her inner mouth in frenzied excitement, and she too was fully complying in reciprocation, just as enthusiastic. That was something she had never, ever done for her husband. And as the firm arm of a seasoned warrior encircled her figure, a toughened hand crept up to the side of her face. She leaned in, desperate for the touch of her true desired man: _her_ star-crossed lover. Izuna's fingers soon wandered past and became entangled in her long ebony locks, and she pushed her entire body further into him. Kagome allowed herself in being reduced to that of an untamed animal, acting on naught but an uncontrollable need for her beloved—caving in to primal instincts. Ones that her own husband had never been able to evoke from her_._

…and Madara wordlessly saw it all from the doorway; his darkened, obsidian eyes half-lidded.

Her body may have belonged to him, but Kagome's heart had always been saving itself—waiting to be claimed by his brother. By Uchiha Izuna.

And he knew.

—

Then one evening it was her turn to approach him, unforeseen, like how Izuna had when he'd offered up his eyes. She had chosen to do so near the grandest tree in their outdoor garden. The same place where he had first studied her from the shadows on the night of their betrothal. With the celestial moon beaming down on them—the meddlesome moon that had already spectated so much—she requested of him something so absurd when her pregnancy was at its concluding peak; the ripe fruit at her stomach due any day now.

"I can't take this anymore," she told him in a deranged whisper, brown orbs unfocused. "This wicked curse_… _the curse that makes Uchiha devour each other likes dogs_ for_ _power_."

She asked him to put her out of her misery, because she could stand it no longer. That she didn't want _her_ child growing up in such a corrupted, self-serving clan. That she wished for _anything_ but having to witness her future sons and daughters killing the persons closest to them, and then claiming the eyes of their own siblings _for_ _power_. That she was tired of it all—so extremely weary.

Madara saw she was changing—_degenerating_—from what she had once been before. What had happened to Uchiha Kagome, the one promising to _fulfill her duties_ and _love her children so deeply_?

"No more… no more… I'll die if I have to see anymore…" she breathed shakily as she looked entreatingly into his—_Izuna's—_eyes.

This coward—this _thing—_was not her.

Yet Madara raised his hand, and gently placed his palm sideways over her eyes, covering them.

Kagome stilled immediately, recognizing the all-too familiar gesture.

Before he even articulated his next words, ghostly vibrations had already been traveling down her spine; the hair at the nape of her neck had risen.

"…so hide them," he told her. "Hide your eyes."

_This is all that I can do for you._

In mute response, she slowly raised her own hands to lay over his larger, rougher one. She pressed it hard against her eyes, keeping it in place. As though she would be far too ashamed to meet his gaze when he finally retracted his fingers. As though she had now just realized the actual severity of what she had been pleading of him minutes prior.

Kagome gradually descended to her knees, her back elegantly straight as she knelt before her husband; chin upraised to him, her turbulent soul still hiding behind both their hands.

And Madara could feel the abundance of warm tears under his palm—and could see it as well, as it slipped past beneath his skin and sped down her blanched complexion.

—

From the depths of Kagome's birthing room a nursemaid emerged, searching uneasily for him. She found the shinobi directly outside, waiting patiently as he had been the past countless hours, listening to his wife's earthshattering screams and incessant moaning; having anticipated the unadulterated cries of a newborn babe any moment now. Her uncertain mien disconcerted him.

"Madara-sama…" she started nervously, wringing her hands—the classic symptom demonstrated by a woman when something was wrong. "The session of labor has finished."

"And?" demanded the man expectantly.

In response the nursemaid inhaled acutely, and bit her lower lip before disclosing her answer with weary eyes. "Your son… He was stillborn, Madara-sama…"

Onyx orbs widened visibly, and he promptly moved to step beyond the woman.

"H-hold it, Madara-sama!" She denied him access, spreading out her arms. "The Lady needs her rest! You cannot—!"

With what was much more force than necessary he fiercely shoved the woman aside, making her collide painfully against the wall with a dull _thud_. As she slid down to the floor, wincing and reaching for her throbbing muscles, he stormed ahead. Into where his wife resided. Madara vehemently yanked open the sliding door, nearly destroying it with his superfluous exertion. From inside, the second nursemaid's lowered head shot up toward the abrupt disturbance, a wrapped immobile bundle in her arms.

"My Lord, this room is sacred!" she informed him hotly. "Men are not allowed in here!"

"_Get out_," he spat venemously, his eyes suddenly assimilating a vermillion hue. The Eternal Mangekyou—he would not vacillate in using it.

As the woman frantically did as commanded, Madara's penetrating stare was affixed to the blue bundle in her arms. When she speedily fled the room, he averted his attention onto his wife.

She lied supine on a collected mass of white blankets, a hard rectangular pillow supporting her head. The lower half of her body was covered by sheets semi-stained with blood. Sweat coated her paler than usual skin, endowing it with a surreal, sparkling effect. The tips of her bangs were heavy with saturation and strips of hair were plastered to her face, adding to her disheveled exterior. Kagome did not deign to look at him in spite of his boisterous entrance. Instead, she appeared mesmerized by the ceiling—or to be more specific, the shoji lamp dangling above her midair. It hung at the end of durable ninja wire extending south from a small, sturdy hook. Her mouth shifted, her voice nearly inaudible, as though she were in the middle of a soliloquy.

"…of the duties… future for the Uchiha and for me… the 'path' anymore…"

_What is she saying_…?

He went to her side and knelt down to her, straining to hear the soft murmurs.

"I'm tired of the duties—"

Madara's reddened orbs narrowed.

"—there is no future for the Uchiha and for me—"

"_Kagome_," he hissed warningly.

"—I cannot walk out the 'path' anymore."

In a flurry of overwrought movement, Madara knocked over the silver bowl of bloodied water next to them. And as the filthy, tainted liquid doused his black pants he yanked up his wife by the front of her yukata. Her head lolled inactively to the side as she kept her vacant eyes fastened to the shoji lamp, repeating over and over again in succession her haunting prose. She failed to take notice of how her infuriated husband's Sharingan was directed on her, his gaze profound.

"Who has done this to you?" he seethed. "Have you been caught under a genjutsu spell, Kagome?"

"_I'm tired of the duties…  
there is no future for the Uchiha and for me…  
I cannot walk out the 'path' anymore._"

"_Answer me_!" the man bellowed, having lost all his trained patience. His eyes were almost psychotic as he stared down at his deranged wife, his mind a clutter as he tried figuring out how everything could have gone so terribly wrong without warning. There was a nagging thought surfacing in his head—_It was all wrong from the beginning_—but he stubbornly pushed it back down and ignored it. Yet, as he scrutinized Kagome's inane eyes_…_

_From the beginning, it was all wrong. From the beginning, it was all wrong. From the beginning, it was all—  
_

"Madara-sama!" exclaimed a nursemaid at the door—the one he had earlier harmed. "Izuna-sama has returned to the compound!"

As his grasp on the front of Kagome's clothing slackened, he griped, "Now, of all times…?"

Gathering his bearings, he let the yukata slip through his fingers and the _stranger_ landed hard on her makeshift bedding, still reciting the devil's words. Madara could not identify her, and he refused to treat her as though he could; as if she were the amazing woman he had once married and verified as his. Now she was thoroughly unrecognizable—a hideous, grotesque creature from the underworld aiming to mislead and deceive him, by having adopted Uchiha Kagome's physical features. His _real_ wife was somewhere else, he was certain of it. And he would find her.

But as of now_—_

"Tend to her!" he ordered brusquely, ascending to his feet and striding out of the room.

He did not dare to glance back for the _demon_ still chanting that fiendish chant…

It was not long before he arrived at the front gates of the compound to see Izuna bent over to his knees, panting, with gems of sweat adorning his temples. The younger shinobi lifted his chin to him, having straightaway discerned his presence; eyelids shut, and flat across due to the emptiness underneath them. There was a silly, naïve grin on his visage.

"I came… as fast as I could… when I heard… Nii-san…!" apprised the man with unbound excitement, having paused several times inbetween due to his erratic breathing. Izuna spared an evanescent moment to rebalance himself, and with a steadier tone he inquired, "Is she still in labor?"

Madara did not answer, and the younger Uchiha brother could detect a vestige of unwelcome tension in the air. He recklessly dismissed it.

"Well?" he pressed harder, rising to stand erect.

"A male—"

Izuna's lips were twitching upward, his eyebrows elevating. Madara could almost picture the twin onyx orbs that had once been present on his face alighting with rapture.

"—a deficient, stillborn male."

The slow expiry of his younger brother's joyful expression was tragic.

"…Nii-san?" Izuna's voice escalated sharply to a hoarse yell, as he angrily shouted, "_What are you saying, Nii-san_…?"

Madara clenched his teeth, and stayed silent.

"Does that make sense to you?" insisted Izuna, distraught. "She looked so forward to having that child… How could you say it came out dead? _How_!"

"Do you think I _wanted_ _for this to_ _happen_?" rebuked Madara dangerously, his own volume barely contained.

Izuna dropped heavily to his knees on the ground, holding a palm to his forehead. "I can't believe this," he muttered despairingly. "How… to her… of all people… When she…?"

Madara's crimson eyes swept over his younger brother's defeated posture, the pins of his Sharingan inconspicuously spinning into position. There was a burdensome overcast looming over his heart that justified blaming the sightless shinobi for his devastating misfortune. It persistently urged him to tell Izuna: _You brought this upon yourself, by coveting another man's woman_. _You are the reason Kagome could not accept me. The reason she lacked the strength to deliver my son, before he drowned in her womb_._ She will never be the same… Because of you__…_

Yet, was all that true? Was it not _because _of Izuna that Kagome had smiled? _Because _of Izuna that he had heard her laughter, seen her eyes shine bright, and had her by his side as long as he had? Was it not his brother who had encouraged his wife into living out her existence, and to greet each new morning with hope?

And as for himself, what had _he_ ever been able to do for her? Had he ever inspired her? Been a reason for her to smile? Had he meant nothing in her life? Was he—

Like unceremonious thunder, an appalling screech reverberated from inside the main house, disrupting his melancholic pondering. Both he and Izuna jerked reflexively toward the source of noise, before simultaneously springing forth into their home without a split-second's hesitation.

_No._

Madara couldn't overlook the boiling pit of anxiety in his gut, and he did not want to know what had warranted the shrill scream.

_Don't._

The brothers arrived concurrently in front of the birthing room.

_Don't… Kagome…_

Crumpled before the opened shoji door, flat on her blue-clad bum, was the nursemaid who had cried out in horror. The wood paneled floor around her was ruined and slick with a shallow puddle of water, a now emptied silver bowl lying face-down and abandoned next to her hip with a sodden white cloth lying adjacent to it. Her slim fingers were fisted in her chestnut hair, her bulging eyes seeming as though they could shoot out from their sockets. She was insane.

_Don't go._

"I—I just went to-to get m-materials… to w-wash the Lady—"

___D_on't, Kagome… don't go.

There was a peculiar noise. It didn't belong inside his home, and it was strange: the sound of something slowly twisting.

Madara's eyes were alert as they steadily worked upward, from the piteous sight of the babbling nursemaid (whom he could suddenly hear no more).

He saw a modest wooden chair, lying deserted on its side against the blanket-covered ground where Kagome had lain. The chair that had sat so innocuously in the room's corner hours prior.

_No__… no_—

Hovering above it were two small, sock-covered feet, suspended in the air—revolving sluggishly, and daintily, in place.

_No—_

Then he saw a thin pair of pale legs, from which viscous blood unhurriedly trickled south; from where his defective son had been borne.

_Crik, crik_, echoed loudly and torturously in his head, his own cognitive thoughts having haulted.

His Sharingan eyes—the eyes that were so experienced, yet so unprepared—ventured onward to see a clothed torso. The very one he had dug his hands into moments before in fury.

A delicate, pretty little neck entrapped his vision. It was uncannily familiar to him. It might've been the one he had kissed countless times before, in the hopes of acquiring their owner's affections.

It was wrapped around many times in coils of durable ninja wire. Odd. A neck was no shoji lamp, which was now distressingly nowhere to be found.

At the travel's end were dulled, spiritless brown eyes slanted downward; even now refusing to acknowledge him.

Even now, rejecting him.

_Crik, crik_.

But her rosy lips no longer shifted. No sinful, revolting incantations slipped past them.

Madara faltered back a step, eyes impossibly wide and jaws parted.

"What's going on? Nii-san!" pleaded Izuna as he finally proceeded forward, arms extended as he searched heedlessly for Kagome. He was careful with where he brought down his feet, in the case that she still be lying on the floor. "Kagome. Are you all right, Kagome? Kagom—"

The younger man grew deathly silent, after attaining something firm and soft beneath his fingers, uncertain if it were what he'd been seeking. Something was off…

Kagome had never been so tall, so how was she now?

Again, Madara took another step backward. There was an erratic thumping in his chest so deafening the world might have also been able to hear it.

His throat was arid as he watched, unable to pass up his morbid wonder, as Izuna warily situated his hands over Kagome's shoulders. The younger brother's trembling fingers floated to the center of her bosom, and then journeyed north from there, eventually ghosting over that pretty, wire-spindled little neck glorifying the necklace of Death—

Madara's compact grip on reality wavered at that point.

Before he even realized what was happening he'd fallen backwards to the floor, immune to the nursemaid's hysterical shrieking. The world was again reeling around him as it had once before, and he could only vaguely interpret the hazy image of his younger brother: clawing fiercely at the unrelenting ninja wires encompassing Kagome's strained neck, screaming her name, over and over…

And amid the pandemonium, only one thing was prominent in his disheveled mind.

He was Uchiha Madara, the lone bearer of Eternal Mangekyou, and his eyes were no longer broken.

In fact, he carried the best—the _finest_—and they had earned him the right in being labeled a superlative shinobi.

So why…

…_why_ did he feel so helpless?

—

The afternoon Kagome relinquished her own life, she furtively stole along with her Izuna's will to live. Even without the Sharingan he had been a remarkable shinobi, and had not been destined to die so early a death. But he did. And before that he would isolate himself in his bedchamber for days on end, shunning any and all contact with other human beings. He denied his body nourishment, rest, bathing, and everything else necessary; rotting in his room in complete darkness. Then, one unanticipated evening, he suddenly wished to attend battle. Madara had genuinely tried to sway him from his absurd decision. At the end it was plain to perceive: no longer was it his rival and brother, Uchiha Izuna, that stood before him.

"You're delusional," reprimanded the elder sibling, his eyes seeming darker than ever before. "To fight in your current condition is to head straight for the gallows themselves."

But Izuna's shell said nothing in response, staunch.

_You will choose to abandon me as well, Izuna?_

"_Fool_," exhaled Madara at last, onyx orbs hooded. "Death is that which you seek, is it?"

"Please… allow me this at the least, Nii-san."

—

In total darkness, he often meditated:

Even after she had departed from the physical plane, his younger brother had wished to chase after her—his wife.

No…

Perhaps, she had never truly been his wife.

Perhaps instead, she had been a woman whom Izuna had deemed more important than anything. He had held her in high regards, exalting her before his pride, his eyes, and even his clan.

Now, she was also more valuable to him than his own life, and he would pursue her through the gates of Hell.

And yet, Madara could not draw forth the same courage. And it made him bitter.

Again he had not had enough power… again, he had ended up pitiful and weak… again, incapable of doing anything.

And he abhorred himself for it.

_I will become strong… stronger… _

…so he would obtain greater power. Power so great he could be rendered helpless no more.

—

"_I'm tired of the duties…  
there is no future for the Uchiha and for me…  
I cannot walk out the 'path' anymore._"

"Aa, that's how it went," remarked Madara approvingly as he peered through the two holes in his mask, surveying his young Uchiha accomplice. "Have Shisui leave that as his suicide note."

Thirteen-year-old Uchiha Itachi nodded in compliance, and was subsequently dispatched to initiate the killing of his 'best friend'.

Afterwards in his acquired solitude, he lifted his head towards the sky, appreciating the waxing moon.

His intricate plans would come to fruition—all in due time. He would successfully purge the world of its never ending adversities, and it would duly repay him in reciprocation by making him its ultimate monarch. He would be the most powerful, and neither he nor anyone else would undergo hardship ever again.

There could _be_ no better option for World Peace.

A perfect world—a world that Kagome and Izuna would surely have delighted in partaking with him.

"Soon," he murmured, leaning against the tree behind him, eyelids curtaining his Sharingan. "___…_very soon___._"

But for now while he awaited the promised day, when Silence would spread indefinitely across the universe, he would continue. To reminisce___…_

___…_of earlier, happier times_______…_

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

___…s_he had come to him on a warm, balmy late afternoon, with a myriad of cherry blossoms falling and gyrating elegantly behind her…

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

_finito_

_._

_._

_.  
_

**Author's Note**: I cautioned you guys from the start—and you all know Happy Endings are scarce in _My Courageous Shinobi_, ha! Though if I have to be frank it's because I usually try to inject Kagome into the lives of the characters in such a way, so things will generally still flow as they do in the Naruto manga/anime, undisturbed and unchanged. Not to mention I've got an affinity (or morbid obsession, whichever you please) for the more poignant themes. Anyway, the question I want to ask you all is this: **Who did you have more sympathy towards? **Madara or Izuna—perhaps Kagome even? Let me know how you feel with the conclusion of "So Hide Your Eyes," whether your feedback is positive or negative! Thank you everyone, and see you around.


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